


How to Save Your Boyfriend from the Evil Computer Overlords (and Himself)

by avocadobears, ges_who



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Almost Suicide Attempt, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Guns, Hospitals, Jenna is good with technology, Kidnapping, M/M, Michael Mell Has Two Moms, Mild Description of Panic Attack, bc it’s what the world needs, black jenna rolan, but still lots of angst, chapters 8/13 have been updated accordingly, comic relief with Jared Kleinman, descriptions of blood/wound, heidi hansen is a goddess, it has been confirmed by GS, pov switching, squip!jeremy, squipocalypse™, stopping the apocalypse one gay relationship at a time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 09:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11688828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avocadobears/pseuds/avocadobears, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ges_who/pseuds/ges_who
Summary: Evan Hansen has been writing letters to Connor Murphy for a while now, and he thinks he's finally ready to confess his feelings. That is, if he can figure out where Connor went after writing what looked like a suicide note.- - -Micheal Mell thought he was done with evil computers, but when his boyfriend disappears, along with the whole cast of the school play, he realizes that he might never stop fighting to hold on to Jeremy.





	1. Connor

Connor had exactly one person in the world who loved him. A statement which would sound sad to just about every single goddamn person on the planet. Especially himself. He was pretty sure his family just tolerated him, and all the other kids in school either feared him or despised him, the mocking tones and shoves in the hallway had died down throughout the years, for his own anger had showed just about everyone what a psycho he actually was. Connor wouldn’t disagree with their uneasy glances or avoided eye contact and whispers. He was belittled by basically everyone, so it was safe to say that Evan was the only exception. Evan had told him so in a letter; that was the only way they had ever really communicated: letters.

It had started out when Connor had found Evan in the computer lab when he was yet again skipping class. He had recognized him immediately as the kid he had shoved down in the hallway earlier. Connor had mistaken the kid’s throat clearing for a mocking laugh after Kleinman had put him in a bad mood with a snide comment, and on the first day of senior year, too. Connor almost grumbled at the thought, about to turn himself around to find somewhere else to hide. But something deep inside compelled him to approach Hansen.

Thank god the floor was carpeted, or the clomp of his combat boots would’ve scared Evan out of his own body. And another thank god for the fact that Hansen had his back turned, the room lit mostly by the synthetic glare of the computer screen. He was typing away at something in a fidgety and quick manner. Connor knew the kid was the school loser, the shutout, the one who couldn’t say a damn word in front of a small classroom of students without looking like he wanted to submerge himself into the tiled floor as he stuttered one word over and over. Honestly, he looked like he wanted to cry at every given second of his life. Who knows how this kid had managed to get through the hell of school without hyperventilating at every look he got, genuine or not. Then again, Connor was the one who threw a printer at his second grade teacher.

He decided it was fair game. They were the same level of freak, if not the same type.

Connor had crept up behind Evan, standing silently behind him as he read over his shoulder out of curiosity, and had noticed that the letter was addressed to the person who was writing it. ‘Dear Evan Hansen’. Did this kid not have any friends? It didn’t even seem like he had completed a sentence… The rambling he always poured out of his mouth had leaked profusely onto the page in front of him, no period in sight as far as Connor could see.

“Do you not have any friends?”

Evan’s hands flung off the keyboard, his body swinging around so violently in the chair that he almost brought himself and the seat he was in crashing to the ground below them. He looked like a deer in the headlights. A baby deer. This kid was fucking Bambi in human form.

“What - why do you ask, is there something wrong? I have friends, well one friend, but Jared is a family friend so I guess that’s not an actual friend but he still hangs around me even though he sort of acts like he doesn't want to but he’s still my friend I guess and-”

“Okay, stop,” Connor cut the kid off before he hurt himself. Evan’s fanatic hand motions came to a halt. His mouth clamped shut, gaze averted down into his lap, hands dropping with it as his fingers fidgeted with each other. “I just asked because it’s really fucking sad that you’re writing a letter to yourself.”

“Oh, that,” Even mumbled. “Well, it’s actually something my therapist is having me do to help with my anxiety and, um, depression. But I’m not crazy, I just get sad sometimes and also really nervous. I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Connor echoed. Thank god he didn’t ramble on more for once. He didn’t think the kid could stop himself even if he tried. If he talked for long enough into the microphone on his phone, he could have a fucking book by the end of the day. A poorly written, three sentence long book that consisted of 1,000 pages. Connor would probably read it just for shits and giggles.

Then, out of the blue, a sudden thought popped into his head. No clue of where it came from, it spilled out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Or maybe he didn’t want to stop himself.

“Maybe you should write the letters to me instead of yourself.”

Evan’s gaze flickered up, and he just stared at Connor, his mouth slightly open in shock.

“It’s a lot less pathetic than writing them to yourself, and it’s not like I have anyone to gossip to about you. I’ll write you ones about my life, if it’ll help.”

Somehow, this spiel had been convincing enough that Evan had agreed. Maybe out of pure terror that if he didn’t, Connor would beat the everloving shit out him, but that’s beside the point.

After a mutual agreement, Connor felt like he should continue the conversation instead of leaving Hansen hanging. Connor’s eyes drifted to the cast sheltering Evan’s left arm. No sharpie looked like it had even been in a five mile radius of it.

“How’d you break your arm?”

Evan seemed to sputter at that, the fingers on his right hand starting to pick a bit at the cast. Connor had overheard Jared announcing that Evan had finally jerked off too hard and broke his entire arm, to which Evan hastily looked around the emptying hallway and hushed him up. Kleinman was even a dick to Evan Hansen. Well now they can just have a fucking party. ‘Jared Kleinman is an Asshole to Me, Let’s Eat Cake and Celebrate Our Hated Existence Together.’

“I, um… I fell out of a tree,” Evan finally stated.

“Well isn’t that just the saddest fucking thing,” Connor retorted. Evan seemed to sink into his chair a bit. Shit, Connor hadn't meant to freak him out, he just really wasn't good with people.

In an attempt to salvage the conversation, Connor said, “I’ll sign your cast.”

Evan’s eyes shot up towards him now, an alert but confused gaze now pinning Connor in place. Again, Bambi fucking Hansen.

“I - you don’t have to sign it, I mean, I know no one has signed it and I know it looks pathetic but -”

“Just let me sign the cast, Hansen.” And with that, the sharpie was thrusted into Connor’s hands. Connor took it upon himself to write his name in big bold letters across the cast like he was marking his territory. It might even stop people from picking on Evan so much if the student body thought they were friends.

Evan let his eyes scan over the cast, muttering out an, “Oh… thanks…”.

“There,” Connor said, “now we can both pretend we have friends.”

“I can be your friend,” Evan’s words raced out of his mouth as he stood up from his chair, almost knocking it down again. Connor’s brow furrowed, causing Evan to start up again, the gears in his head visibly cranking together. “I-I mean, we’re already going to be writing letters to each other, so we might as well just become friends if we’re going to be sharing life details, but, I mean, I guess we would already be becoming friends anyways! I guess it was a silent agreement before, so, um, yeah.” His words trailed off into nothingness as his gaze drifted to the floor again. This kid needed to take a fucking chill pill. But at least he was probably the first person to act like Connor wasn't a rabid animal. The only exception being Alana Beck, but she talked to everyone in that joyful tone she always used.

“Fine. It’s a deal, then,” Connor spoke clearly. “Evan Hansen and Connor Murphy are officially not friendless.”

The look of relief that washed across Evan’s face was almost calming. Connor felt like he had actually done something good for once in his life.

Thus, they started to build a friendship, one tear-stained, doodle covered, rant-full letter at a time. Everyday, letters were exchanged through the slits in their lockers, ranging from one letter to five letters depending on how well they managed their time frames and how much they actually wrote in each letter. Connor could write notes all day. It wasn’t like he payed that much attention in class anyways. But he knew Evan couldn’t ever not jot something down or not study for something, afraid of failing at something else in his life. He understood a fair amount of what Evan went through, the thought of failure and wrongness cycling over and over in his head would drive any sane person crazy.

This had gone on for months, the two never speaking in the halls or outside of school, but giving each other looks in the halls if they passed each other. Not snarky, not mocking, just a genuine friendly look. And God, that felt so good to Connor.

But in his most recent letter, Evan had told Connor he loved him. It had struck Connor in a way nothing had before, even if it was in a friendly sort of way. He had written ‘I love you, Connor. You matter to me, no matter what.’

It was wonderful. It was so much more than he deserved, and much more than he could really handle. Connor thought he could definitely get used to this. But the calm turned into a storm, and the thought process that always came along eventually chugged its way into his brain all the rest of the day. He couldn’t possibly be responsible for the eventual breaking of Evan’s heart, like he had broken Zoe’s, and his parents’. He hadn’t meant to, but his temper kept getting the best of him and he always hurt the people he was closest to. That’s why he had to end it. He had to stop himself before he ruined another person’s life, especially Evan’s. Wonderful, kind, sweet Evan who chose to see the best in the fucking future school shooter.  
  
The next day, Connor slipped the letter into Evan’s locker. It would be his last letter: it would explain everything. He just hoped Evan would be able to forgive him.

  
\---

  
Connor Murphy knew a thing or two about how to acquire drugs. Pot, crack, ect. So when he left the school grounds in his beat up, chipped black painted, probably going to fall apart any second car from early 2000’s his dad had owned, who had only given it to him if he promised to drive Zoe to and from school everyday and not get into a hit and run (to which Connor replied with, “No promises.”), he went to the sketchiest dealer he knew about. A man who hung around the outskirts of the local park and thankfully knew how to make himself look less of a stalker drug dealer and more of a father with three kids looking stalker drug dealer. Connor asked for the strongest thing they sold.

“What do you want it to do?” the dealer asked, flipping through the wad of bills Connor had handed him. It was a stash that usually sat in the bottom of the middle compartment in his car under a pile of old CD’s, just incase he had suddenly ran out of whatever drug he had stashed away in his bedroom.

“Just make sure it’s something that can fix me. Permanently.”

“Alright.” The man shrugged off the response, probably having weirder responses beforehand from how long he’s been around their town. Plus, all this guy wanted was to get paid. He obviously had no intention of getting into an emotional conversation with a buyer.

An orange bottle filled halfway with grey, oblong pills was placed into Connor’s hand, then stuffed into the front pocket of the black hoodie he always wore. He hardly ever took it off, except for maybe when he was alone, for many reasons that he wouldn’t name to just anyone. It was a comfort object to him now, shading the skin lined with darkened scars underneath from the rest of society.

Connor found a nice spot in the park, and sat himself down under a tree. A Cyprus, he thought. Evan always said they were the most depressing trees. Evan had told him long ago that he had a lot of tree knowledge, his forest expertise showing whenever the topic came up. If that kid could legally marry a tree, he would be more than likely to do it.

The thought of Evan halted him as he gripped the pill bottle hard enough to nearly crush it. How would Evan react to this sudden tragedy? Tragedy. Connor almost laughed to himself. He’s saving everyone else’s asses from himself. Everyone should feel lucky that he hadn’t shot up the school already. Even Evan Hansen.

Connor tugged his hood up onto his head, slipped the bottle out of his pocket, and downed the first pill. But, right as he leaned his head back against the tree behind him, pain immediately sparked through his body, immobilizing him. Connor kept himself from yelling out in agony, instead keeping his fingers dug into the dirt below him. His eyes were glued shut, teeth gritted. Was this actually what death felt like?

“Where am I?” A voice in his head asked. “Where are the others?”

“What the fuck?!” Connor shouted, eyes flinging open, scaring off some pigeons and getting a few side eyed glances from pedestrians. “Who the hell are you?!”

A few seconds of silence passed, only Connor’s own raspy breaths being heard from the space around him. Maybe he was just going crazy! A side effect of the drugs before he finally died. Maybe a spirit or something.

“We need to go to New Jersey,” the voice finally spoke up decisively.

Nope, definitely crazy.

“I’m not going to fucking New Jersey! I’m supposed to be dead!” This couldn’t be happening. He knew he was a complete psychopath, but he didn’t think he was schizophrenic.

“You are not schizophrenic, Connor. And you can die after we get to New Jersey,” The voice retorted calmly. “Or do not, because I will need a vessel in order to keep functioning as I am now.” And without another word from either, and no permission granted, Connor’s fingers retracted from the ground, pushing him off of it and onto his feet. He started walking. Apparently to New Jersey. Not controlling any of his movements.

This was definitely happening.


	2. Evan

Evan fumbled with the combination to his locker before swinging it open, rummaging through it in haste. He was finally going to get a reply from Connor, since his latest letter was slipped into the other’s locker at the end of the school day yesterday. He didn't think the ‘I love you’ was going to freak the other boy out, but his anxiety was like a lead weight in his stomach as he snatched up the folded piece of paper that had been crammed into his locker. This wasn’t out of the norm, for as Connor had explained in an older letter that his bag was basically a rave aftermath except with school assignments, damaged notebooks, and no passed out teenagers. Whenever he needed to retrieve something from it, it would somehow end up sunken into the bottom of his bag. He further explained that it shouldn’t be surprising if there was a dead animal in there somewhere (which would’ve normally creeped Evan out a bit, but Connor’s humor had a charming effect on him). He unfolded the paper, and without even reading it, Evan knew something was off. Connor had messy handwriting, but never this bad.

He began to scan over the letter, bouncing on his toes a bit in an excited but more worried manner. There were no little doodles at all. Connor always put at least one down, even if it was a deep conversation. He remembered a time when he was discussing his anger, saying that being angry made him more angry and that he was ultimately tired of being angry. A cute little cartoon drawing of a pissed off Connor head was drawn at the bottom of the page, pieces of hair sticking out and an expression of a pouty child. Evan always adored those little doodles he did, exclaiming he should go into an art major for college. Connor showed his gratitude through his scribbled out handwriting, saying he’d think about it. A doodle of a mild smiling Connor after ‘Sincerely, me’, slanted slashes on the cheeks to show a light blush.

Even though he had really only talked to Connor verbally one time, he could hear Connor’s voice reciting each and every letter that was given to him. Was that pathetic? Most likely. But that was beside the point to Evan right now.

‘ _Dear Evan Hansen,_

_I never would’ve expected anything like that to come out of your mouth (pencil?). In truth, I always thought that I wouldn’t get very far with you in this whole letter thing we’ve had going on since the start of school. But now with it being late February, I’ve managed to spill almost every single fucking problem out onto crumbled pieces of paper to a kid I’ve never had more than one verbal conversation with. And you’ve taken it all better than I would’ve expected. I was more than half expecting you to call quits and haul ass out of my life as soon as possible after I started pouring my problems onto you. But you stuck around. And you did the same to me, and I guess that’s what the whole deal was in the first place, right?_

_In all honesty, I have no fucking clue where I should go with this, but all I can really say is that I hope you can forgive me. This is my last letter. And I know I shouldn’t make it some emotional bullshit, but I know that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I ever harmed you physically or emotionally. You already get too much crap and the idea of me adding onto that is the worst fucking thing to me. So in order to keep you and basically everyone else safe, I have to call quits. With me being the future school shooter, I’m surprised I haven’t killed anyone yet, so I’m the one hauling ass out of here this time. You better stay right where you are or I will come back and kill you, Hansen. No exceptions. I’m sorry. Goodbye, Evan._

_Sincerely, me’_

He finished reading it, his grip on the paper was tight enough that his fingernails were ripping tiny holes. That was his last letter. He was leaving, and asking for Evan’s forgiveness. He could feel himself start to tremble as his body went on autopilot, stuffing the paper into his bag before speeding off down the hall as fast as his legs would move.

His thoughts were rapid fire. Why was this his last letter? Did Evan do something? Surely Evan must have done something? But Connor would’ve stated it to him clearly. He is never the one to hold back his opinion. Plus he said he wanted to protect Evan from himself. But Connor hadn’t done a single thing wrong to Evan in the months they’d been talking! Was he fleeing the town? Or worse? No he couldn’t -

Evan was jolted out of his thoughts when his shoulder had rammed into another student passing by, of course making Evan stumble to the side instead of the other kid. A snide comment was fired back towards him, but all Evan could think about was the fact that his only true friend could’ve been dead hours ago and Evan wouldn't even know until he found out the truth for himself. His legs were picking up speed, arms outstretched and hands shoving open the side exit to the parking lot.

_You could’ve done something._

Evan’s gaze scanned over the emptying parking lot, but to his horror, the crappy car Connor owned was nowhere in sight.

_You could've done better._

His breaths grew quicker, lungs begging for more air but his legs were in control as they picked up into a fumbling run across the parking lot.

_You could’ve been useful._

They carried him down the road to the local park just down the street. He knew Connor liked to go there frequently to unwind if his anger was bubbling to it’s peak or the stress of something was far too much for him to handle.

_You could’ve done something right._

At first, he was relieved to see Connor’s familiar beat-up car parked near a Cyprus tree, one of the most depressing trees, as Evan had told Connor before. Hope fluttered in his chest. He could have a chance. Another chance to help. Another chance to see the signs. But after countless moments of searching, Connor was nowhere to be found.

_You’re nothing but a failure._

Evan was awfully surprised he hadn’t collapsed into the dirt yet. His eyes were fixated on the Cyprus, running thoughts over in his head about where else Connor would go. A place without his car. But nothing was coming to mind, and the panic was beginning to rise over the breaking point. His hands were sweaty, but he found no motivation to wipe them onto his pant leg. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to sink into the dirt and never be found so everyone could just forget him. But no voice was available. No tears were coming. The dirt certainly wasn’t pulling him under. Evan had a situation at hand that he couldn’t dare push aside without feeling like he finally let everyone down. Like he let Connor down.

There was only one other place Evan could think to look. He typed Connor’s address into his phone, and started darting back down the road to the Murphy house.

They had exchanged addresses a long while ago incase some sort of situation had gone down where they really truly needed to get to the other person’s house. This was definitely one of those moments.

Evan arrived, panicking and sweating even with the cold air biting into his skin, and let his knuckles rap on the door. He questioned with numb anxiety what he was supposed to say to whoever answered. “Hi, your son/brother might have killed himself, but he might have also fled the town or dropped off the face of the planet. How do I know this? Well, we've been writing letters to each other ever since he stalked up to me in the computer lab on the first day of senior year and proposed to be friends even after he shoved me down and called me a freak earlier that day but I accidentally fell in love with him and now I might never be able to do anything about that because he's gone and I can’t find him anywhere.” No, that would probably not go over well.

The door was answered by a short, pretty young black woman, a familiar grin stretched across her face. Alana Beck. Evan only knew her because she was the only person in school besides Connor or Jared who acknowledged his existence. Then again she acknowledged everyone’s existence, starting up a conversation with whoever she laid her eyes on. Why was she here? Did he have the wrong house? Oh God, if he had the wrong house -

“Hi Evan!” Alana cheerfully greeted him, pearly white teeth shining in all their glory. “Why’re you at the Murphy’s house?”

Evan should be asking her that question. But at least he was sure he had the right house now. He almost took a sigh of relief before gentle footsteps approached the two from inside the house.

“Alana, who’re you talking to -” Evan would know that voice anywhere. Zoe Murphy. The girl he had a pathetic crush on for too many school years until she came out as lesbian in her sophomore year. Jared Kleinman had announced it to Evan, and that abruptly cut his crushing off. But that doesn’t make up for the fact that Jared still makes fun of Evan for ever being into her in the first place. “Sure, she’s hot, but even if she was straight, you didn’t think you’d ever have a chance with her, right?” Jared had asked him once, to which Evan told him it didn’t matter now. Which it never should’ve in the first place. Jared simply shrugged, saying something on the lines of, ‘Well, I guess it’s time to get with her freak brother, then. You guys would be perfect for each other!’ Evan didn’t think he’d actually end up falling for the ‘future school shooter’. “Evan? What’re you doing here?”

Evan silently decided with himself that if he spoke up about the letters to Connor’s sister and the ‘school talker’, something would for sure get around and everything would go even further down the cliff that Evan was already tumbling over.

“Yeah, hi, um, is Connor home? His car wasn’t in the parking lot at school, and I did manage to find it at the park but he himself wasn’t at the park and he really doesn’t go anywhere without his car so I thought maybe checking here was -”

“Wait, how do you know my brother?” Zoe cut in, tucking an indigo streak of hair behind her ear in a nervous fashion.

Shoot. Quick, think of something simple. Nothing about the letters. No letters allowed in this conversation with Connor’s sister whatsoever.

“I'm his friend,” Evan said, more confidence in his voice than he felt in his heart. “His only friend. I think he's in trouble. And I need to help him."


	3. Connor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all can thank a-bears for this shit right here.

"Are we even there yet?” Connor asked the voice in his head for the seventh time in one hour. They had only walked a total of about two. Two out of the many dreadful hours left of the death stroll he was being forced to go on. They had mostly been taking on the “fast” route that Bing Maps had provided, and when Connor asked why the all powerful voice of Keanu Reeves was using Bing of all things, it simply explained that it was an old model of the SQUIP, going on to further say that that stood for Super Quantum Intel Unit Processor. Connor was told to simply call the voice ‘Squip’. He was then asked if he would like to change the voice of his Squip to sexy anime female, to which Connor replied with a definite, horrified “NO”.

Though it would be an abnormal thing to any sane person to have a supercomputer in their brain who could ultimately take over their lives, Connor had sort of accepted that there was no possible way of getting Keanu Reeves out of his head anytime soon. He may as well get comfortable.

“No, Connor, we are not “there yet”. You have already asked that question seven times this hour, and three times last hour. We will not arrive until -”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time, GP-asshole, you don’t need to say it all over again,” Connor cut Squip off, rolling his eyes. His gaze was forced forward by the Squip, who seemed to have taken over his body as well as invading his mind. Since the Squip was an older version, he could still talk and move his eyes around, but nothing further. If he really tried, he could take full control of his body again and walk off. But trying to do that countless times on the trip so far had only earned him slight seizurey movements followed by questioning looks and electricity racing down his spine. The Squip zapped him whenever he ‘did something wrong’. He just wanted his fucking body back!

“You will get your body back eventually, Connor,” the Squip stated. “But I am sure that if I gave you your bodily movements back, you would try to turn back, or you would simply collapse from pure exhaustion within the next few minutes. You do not seem to get much exercise.”

“Well, it sure looks like I’ll be getting it now, huh?” Connor scoffed, taking a glance over at the water below them. He was currently crossing a bridge into New Jersey, but apparently their journey had many more hours of walking left until they arrived. His legs were already aching, begging for Connor to take a break, but that wasn't his decision at the moment. He had thought he didn’t have control over himself before Squip came along, but now the tides have really fucking turned that into a literal thing.

“Yes, I suppose so,” the Squip replied calmly. Connor’s gaze drifted back over to the land onto the toll booth right ahead of them. Shit. He didn’t have any money on him. His wallet was stashed away in his car, and even then, he probably didn’t have any money left after the wad of cash he gave away to the father-looking drug dealer.

“Do not worry, Connor,” the Squip spoke again after a few seconds of silence. “I can take care of this.”

“Can you quit reading my mind?!”

“It is not my fault that I am inside your brain.”

“Well maybe if you get the hell out of me, we wouldn’t have to deal with this, now would we?!”

“I am unable to leave your system due to the fact that my programs are literally running through your bloodstream and connected to your brain. There is no way for me to leave.”

“You’re a computer! There has to be a way to - _WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!_ ”

Connor’s shriek of disbelief echoed across the bridge as his feet were suddenly stepping into the road, simply crossing through traffic into the nearest lane like it was nothing. This earned a number of horrendous car screeches, obnoxious honking occurring right behind him as his body strolled forwards like it was a car itself.

“It is called ‘merging’, Connor,” the Squip spoke as if nothing was happening. “I assume you learned this in Driver’s Ed, since you are fully capable of driving.”

“Yeah, but we did it in fucking _CARS_!” Connor most definitely looked like a crazed emo child who had just escaped a mental ward in the middle of a haunted forest. Thank God he couldn’t see the looks he was getting from passing cars, or hear the comments, as every car window was up due to the bitter weather. He imagined the conversations mostly went:

“ _Jerry, there’s a teenager walking in traffic shouting at himself!”_

_“Yes, Linda, it happens to the best of children these days.”_

“We are improvising,” the Squip spoke, nearing the pay toll that was just one car away now. This had to be a fucking joke. This couldn’t possibly be a real life event that he was going through! Though he was a depressed, druggie teenager with anger issues, he had a pretty good life! Two parents and one sister. A rich family that could actually afford things. A house. The perfect family from any outsider. The only problem was himself. Everything else was great in his family’s lives except him. His dad despised him, his sister was scared of him, and his mom was slowly giving up on trying to reach out to him. To top it all off, he was gay! A gay, druggie, mentally ill teenager with anger issues out the fucking wazoo! Things couldn’t possibly get any worse, right?

“Clearly they can.” The squip reminded him.

“Sir, you have to be in a vehicle to pass through the toll booth.” Connor’s head turned to meet the gaze of a tollman who had been dead inside for many years. He was a heavy set guy, graying wisps of hair in his beard and hair, looking like he had just about reached his mid-50’s.

Connor was about to open his mouth to speak, not even sure what he was going to say, when he felt his right arm raise, fingers curling into a fist that was yanked backwards in a quick motion. He saw his fist whirl forwards, meeting the neck of the tollman with such force that it felt like he even dented it inwards. The man stumbled backwards, making a choked noise as his hands flung up to his throat. His back hit the other side of the tollbooth wall, suddenly falling below the window where he was no longer in Connor's field of vision. And with that, his body turned to stroll forwards, swiftly ducking under the red and white boom barrier. His back was straightened, and the stroll continued, now crossing back to the sidewalk. Connor was sure his expression was read as, ‘I’m not sure what the fuck just happened but I guess I got through it okay.’.

“What… the fuck…” Connor said, breathless.

“We may have to start taking back roads.”

“You just punched a fucking tollman! In the throat!”

“We will cross into the forest when we reach the bottom of the bridge.”

“You used my own god damn fist without my permission!”

“I told you, I was improvising.”

“I -” Connor groaned loudly, making it sound like thunder erupting from his throat. Whiney thunder.

“I should have you know that that is certainly not one of the worst things a Squip has done, so your frustration is really not needed.”

Connor wished the Squip had a human form that he could punch square in the face repeatedly so he could truly show it who was boss when he was around. He knew deep down there was no use arguing with a supercomputer that was controlling his entire body. Nothing with this situation seemed like it would be ending well anyways.

“... You better start running, then. Have you ever heard of cops, GPS? Because though I would fucking love to throat punch cops, I don’t think now is the right time,” Connor grumbled out, his anger bubbling in his chest.

“Yes, that is exactly why we are taking back roads. I will take your advice, though.” And just like that, Connor’s legs picked up into a sprint down the sidewalk of the bridge. Maybe if he tried to take over his body again, he could just jump off the bridge and end it all. It wasn’t exactly what he had planned at first, but if it’s a way out, he’ll certainly take what he can get.

“I would stop there, Connor,” the Squip’s tone was more aggressive, a voice booming in his inner ears. “I am the one in control here. If you do not wish for anyone else to get harmed in this process, we shall proceed as we currently are.”

For once in his life, Connor fell silent. The boots he wore reached the grass of the forest. His only thought was Evan as he named the different trees he passed along, hoping he was holding up alright.


	4. Evan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to yell at us in comments. We're into that shit.

When Evan was a child, he believed that some sort of evil creature had crawled into his ear when he was sleeping, and made itself a home in his brain, burrowing deep enough so no one could ever reach it. But the only way for it to be able to survive in there was to corrupt his brain into the creature’s own doubtful and negativity filled space. So it started to mutter uneasy statements to Evan whenever he was about to speak up, or when he did something minor that wouldn’t matter to anyone, making it a huge deal to himself instead. It blamed Evan for the longest time, saying that it was his fault his dad had left, even though when he asked his mother, each time he got nearly the same response. ‘No, sweetie, it wasn’t your fault at all.’ ‘Daddy just couldn’t stay.’ ‘He had things to take care of somewhere else, but we weren’t able to travel with him.’ He’d learned to stop asking why, then stopped asking that question altogether, knowing he’d get that same sad but thoughtful smile from her, followed behind with a tight hug. He knew she was sad. It was impossible to not see. But he never asked. Maybe he should’ve asked. But the creature wouldn’t let him. 

Evan would often blame the way he acted on the creature in his head, begging his mom to take him to the doctor to get it out. She didn’t understand at first. She still never got a grasp on it even after the creature was given a name: severe social anxiety, and a cousin named depression. Being a nurse tended to make you think a bit differently sometimes, it seemed. It made Heidi think that she could ‘fix’ anybody. Or maybe it was just in her nature to want to put broken things back together.

Either way, it would never ease the thought that his mom just wanted to have a successful child. A social child. A happy child.

A normal child.

Zoe let Evan into the house, probably only because of the fact that Evan was full on hyperventilating and Alana wasn’t really adding any sort of help with her jolly attitude, trying to keep his spirits up. Really, it was just making him panic more. 

“-an… Evan!” A voice shouted, sounding like it was a million miles away from where Evan stood, still in the doorway, a shaking, sweaty-palmed mess. His gaze flung up to finally meet Zoe’s as her hand was placed on his back, her expression soaked with concern and unease. Evan could hear his heart thumping in his ears, the desperate gasps for air his lungs were taking in. Zoe’s eyes glanced to Alana, who immediately stumbled into action to place her hand in Evan’s, taking it as if he were a toddler. The girls led a disoriented Evan into the living room, setting him down gently in between the two of them on the couch. He started to take his hand away from Alana’s, then felt as if that would be a sign that he didn’t want them to help. Even though he really did, but asking for help would make other people worry, and he would never want to do that to anyone else. Especially people who have only seen his panicky side.

Evan decided to keep his hand in Alana’s, his trembling hand on top of hers as if she wanted to give him the thought that he was in control here. He could pull away when he wanted. 

A few seconds of silence passed as Evan stared at his feet,his free hand tightly clasped into a fist on his thigh, counting in his head. 5 seconds in, 5 seconds out. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

“... Evan, can you tell us what’s going on?” Zoe’s soothing tone made Evan blink. Had he blinked at all in the three minutes he’d been here? Her hand was still on his upper back, more towards his left shoulder now. Her thumb was rubbing in light circles. 

After a few more tortuous seconds of trying to not let it spill out, his plan had backfired. Off Evan’s tongue rolled everything. How they first met, the letters, the no talking, the supposed suicide letter, the mad dash around town, and back to the Murphy’s house. Everything but his feelings towards Connor had fled for their escape. He didn’t know how Zoe would react if Evan told her. The possibilities seemed endless. But as he waited for a mocking laugh to follow, or shouting to emerge from Zoe’s mouth, all that came was:

“... Thank you.”

Evan’s snap of his head towards Zoe and the confused look must have given her the cue to keep talking.

“He doesn’t have friends. He has never had a friend. I only wanted what was best for him, but he always thought he was too far gone to get it. He wouldn’t accept the fact that I’ve been trying to help him, he won’t let me in... He’s more scared of himself than he thinks I am of him.” Zoe’s gaze drifted to the floor now, hands moved to her lap instead. “… But… you’ve given him hope. You’re bringing my brother back. He was acting more lively lately, y’know? He seemed like he was trying for once… we had our first good conversation in years on the way home from school a few weeks ago. An actual, genuine conversation! Even if it was with stupid sibling mockery! We weren’t in a battle for once… he was trying. He… he really deserves a person like yourself to come in and actually treat him like a human being for once. So… thank you, Evan, for being Connor’s friend.” Her gaze was back on his. Her smile could’ve spoken for her instead of her mouth. She looked like she was fighting back tears, and Evan knew how hard it was to look at someone while doing that. So he nodded, flashing a light smile towards her before she looked away to rub her eyes. Alana was smiling, too. 

“We’ll help you look for him, Evan,” Alana spoke up. “We’ll do whatever we can to find him.”

Evan felt a million pounds of weights lifted off of him at once. Two of the most competent girls in school were agreeing to help him find his secret best friend. 

“... Thank you,” Evan breathed out. “Thank you both so much.” He cracked a smile to the two of them, before it was time to get to work.

Zoe first decided to try calling Connor's cell a million times, leaving a bunch of voicemails along the lines of, ‘Hey, you should totally tell me where you are because you have a friend who’s worried sick about you, along with a sister and her, uh, friend, so you better pick up.’ and ‘Connor, if you don’t pick up soon -’ and of course, ‘I swear to God if you’re dead, I’ll kill you.’. 

Alana suggested using Find My IPhone, and after Zoe questioning her on why she didn’t say it before, Alana just shrugged. 

“I was waiting for you to be done.”

“You could’ve barged in, it’s not unusual for you to do!”

Alana just shrugged again, smiling brightly. 

The three hopped into Alana’s little white car, looking as clean and preppy as ever, and drove to the location where it said Connor’s phone was located. Only the location was back in the park, inside the locked car that Connor had left behind. The three exchanged glances, silently agreeing to drive around a bit more, but as the hours passed and it neared 9 PM, they headed back to the Murphy’s.

Zoe whipped out her laptop right when they were back in the living room, Alana on her phone, and Evan on his, too. They scrolled through articles, news clips, and finally, sketchy online forums, trying to find connections. Anything about recently missing people they could find. At about 11 PM, Zoe lets out a triumphant ‘hah!’.

“Hey, get this! A bunch of kids went missing in New Jersey after a big disaster happened at their school. Apparently all of them went missing suddenly this past month after another kid by the name of ‘Jeremy Heere’ vanished in mid February,” Zoe exclaimed, her eyes scanning the screen before her.

“So they all just vanished? This past month? And no one’s looking for them? Who's writing about this on some sketchy forum? Why isn't it on the news?” Alana inquired, leaning into Zoe's personal space to examine her computer screen. Evan turned his attention over to the others, setting his phone down on the couch beside him. Zoe seemed flustered, Alana leaning close to her.

“W-Well, this guy who's writing about it, ‘mikey_p1’, seems to have some kind of conspiracy theory about it. He thinks that supercomputers that come in pills are taking over people's minds. He states that they must have to do with the recent vanishings of the these kids, since they all had them before and that’s what caused the disaster in the school last fall... Weird, right?”

“Let me see that!” Evan snatched the laptop off of Zoe's lap, neither of the girls protesting against the sudden action. This could be what they were looking for. Maybe Connor took those pills when he...when he tried to…

Maybe Evan was just grasping at straws. But this was all he had right now. He scanned over the blog, taking in every detail possible. He needed all the info he could get on this. An email address was written in at the end. Perfect! But he needed to get to New Jersey, and meet with this Mikey person. It was the only way he could think of to get to the bottom of this. This guy seemed to know what he was talking about, considering that he was there when it all happened! … Or, so he says, at least. Evan had no choice but to believe him right now. He had to find Connor. 

Evan pulls up his email app on his iPhone, screen still cracked from where he landed on it falling out of that tree last summer, and pulled up a new message. He typed up a quick and simple message to send to the email Mikey had provided. This guy seemed like he really wanted to reach out to people about the issue. Maybe he was just as desperate as Evan.

“What are you doing?” Zoe demanded. “You can't possibly be thinking of contacting this guy!”

“He has answers, Zoe! Even if he’s some crazed druggie who lives on the streets, he still has answers! And I need to get them!” Evan rethought on his choice of words. “That sounded rude, but all I’m saying is that I need to go!”

Zoe and Alana exchanged nervous glances, but nodded anyways, saying they understood. They asked if they could come with, but Evan refused, saying that he didn’t want anything to happen to them. He was the one who was getting himself into this, not them. After a bit of convincing, he was let off the hook. 

“I should probably head out. Thanks for everything you two. Really.” Evan said, standing up quickly and knocking over Zoe's laptop in the process. He apologized profusely, fumbling to grab it and set it on the couch with a small pat on the lid and hurried out of the house.

Well, Evan was on his own for this one. 

Wait. Not entirely alone!

When he was about halfway down the driveway (why did rich people have such long driveways???) he called Jared Kleinman. His only hope, as of now.

After a few rings, he picked up. He sounded groggy.

“Hey, do you own a watch? Do you know what time it is right now?” Jared demanded as soon as he picked up the phone.

“I know and I'm sorry but I need your help, and-”

“I'm joking you dude, just quoting a Drake song. Well, not entirely joking,” Jared cut in.

“Oh, okay,” Evan said, making a mental note to look up who Drake was later.

“Evan Hansen, what could you possibly need at midnight on a Saturday?” Jared grumbled out.

“I need you to drive me to New jersey.”

“New Jersey?”

“Yes.”

“Why in the hell do you need me to drive you to New Jersey in the dead of the night, Hansen?”

“Um, well, it’s a lot to explain and -”

“Evan, I know you can’t drive because you can’t even give a speech in front of class, but I don’t see your point of making me drive all the way to you and all the way to frickin’ New Jersey.”

“Can you just let me explain on the way there? Please, Jared, I really need this.”

“... What’s in it for me?”

“Jared -”

“Fine, fine, don’t whine about it now! Should i pick you up at your place?”

“Um,” Evan hadn't thought this through. “Actually, I'm at the Murphy house…”

A dramatic gasp was heard through the phone. 

“What?! Like school shooter and weird indie chick Murphy house?” Jared sounded equally horrified and ecstatic.

“You shouldn't call them that! But, yes, that's who lives here. But Connor isn't here. He's in New Jersey I think and that's why I need to go there so I can talk to someone who knows more about the situation at hand and hopefully find Connor and a bunch of other missing kids,” Evan responded, feeling his phone vibrate against his face, hopefully Mikey emailing him back. At least that was quick.

“... Evan, are you high or something?”

“No, Jared, I’m being serious -”

“Are you doing the drugs?”

“Jared—!”

Another dramatic gasp. “Wait, are you in love with Connor Murphy??”

“Yes! Yes I am! I am totally, utterly, over the top in love with Connor Murphy!! Are you happy now, Jared?! Now would you please get over here and pick me up so we can get on the road?? You do know how to get here, right?”

“Holy shit. Um, yeah, I went to party near there once… I’ll be over in a few. Bye.”

The call ended before Evan could respond. Jared Kleinman not thinking of a witty response for once. It was a terribly nice change in pace.

Evan took a deep breath and looked at his phone. A new email from mikey_p1@gmail.com.

‘Meet me in the back of Spencer's gifts in the Tri County Mall. Turn your phone on airplane mode when you arrive. I’ll have my friend let you in through the back of the mall. We’ll be here all night, so no stress on time. Safe travels.

Michael’

He included an added address to the location. Well, that was a step in the right direction. Hopefully. Oh god, what if this guy was in on the whole thing? What if he was a crazy serial killer? He sounded sketchy enough. I mean, they found him on a weird forum in the middle of the crazy side of the Internet! But Evan had to go anyway. He just had to. If it meant seeing Connor again, he couldn’t back away from this opportunity.

He spent about five minutes staring up at the stars and satellites, breathing in the icy air and shivering with chill and nerves before Jared pulled up at the end of the driveway in a slick black car that looked brand new, but was actually too many years old to count.

Evan hopped in the passenger’s seat, buckling up right away.

“I was tempted to honk the horn and see how high you would jump,” Jared said.

“That wouldn’t have been the worst thing you’ve done to me…” Evan mumbled as they backed out of the driveway before taking off down the road.


	5. Evan

“Alright, time for you to explain what’s happening now,” Jared said after Evan had typed in the address to the location into Jared’s phone. Apparently it was going to take them at least two hours to get there. Good thing Michael had told them not to stress on time. But Jared didn’t seem to be going the way the GPS on his Android was telling him to go. At least he changed into something decent to wear. A t-shirt and some loose jeans.

Evan said his whole spiel. The letters, the searching, the thing with Michael. Jared seemed too exhausted to even say anything during his ramble. Once again, a nice change in pace.

“And you’re gay for him, correct?” Why was that the first thing out of Jared’s mouth?

“I - um… yes?”

“And he’s gay for you?”

“... I dunno.”

Jared looked about ready to slam on the break in the middle of the road. 

“Well, there’s your problem, Evan! Connor probably found out you were gay as hell for him and totally ran off so you wouldn’t jump him!” Jared made it sound like it was a painfully honest thing.

“What - no he didn’t! He told me he was gay!” Connor couldn’t have just run off because he found out Evan liked him, right? That’s not something people did… right??

“That doesn’t give him a reason to like you back! You broke your arm by falling out of a tree, Evan! You don’t talk to anyone, you ramble for days on end, your hyperventilate when someone so much as looks at you - I mean, no wonder he ran off!”

“Th-that’s not why he ran off -”

“Hell, we don’t even know if he’s still alive, right?”

“That’s not true -”

“He wrote you a suicide note, Evan.”

“It wasn’t a suicide note, it just sounded like one -”

“He’s bound to be dead by now -”

“He’s not dead, Jared! Stop saying he’s dead because he’s not! You don’t know shit about his life, Jared, okay?!” Evan’s shout echoed through the car, his fists slamming down into his thighs. He panicked. He panicked too much and shouted. He shouted at Jared. Jared Kleinman. He even cursed. He rarely cursed! Jared would surely throw him out the car window by now, right? But he was just gripping the wheel and staring straight ahead. He didn’t even look mad. Just… tired.

“... You made it sound like you guys were secret lovers,” Jared said in a calm manner, keeping his gaze ahead. 

“... What?” Was all Evan could manage to squeak at that point. “No, no I didn’t -” 

“The letters, the no talking outside or in school verbally, the exchange of all personal information you would never share with anyone. You made it sound like you were lovers.”

“... Oh my God, I made it sound like we were lovers.” Evan put his head in his hands before sliding them up into his hair.

“What did I just say -”

“Do you think Zoe and Alana think I’m a freak?? Do you think they’re actually helping me or leading me off somewhere so I’ll never come back and they won’t ever have to deal with me again -”

“Everyone thinks you’re a freak already, it’s too late to turn back now. Don't worry, I like you anyway.” 

The car stopped. The ignition shut off. The keys jangled.

“We’re here,” Jared said.

Evan lifted his head up slowly, seeing a tall building straight ahead of them, dumpsters lining the back with a couple doorways on the wall. It was all pitch black, the only light being illuminated from the streetlamps scattered throughout the parking lot.

“... But… but the trip was supposed to take at least two hours… it’s been, like… twenty minutes… did I pass out or something?” Evan felt dazed, still looking around through the windshield at the building ahead. 

“... Check the overhead.” 

Evan averted his gaze to Jared after hearing his mumbled but defeated response, only Jared looked… flustered? He was staring straight ahead still, a sculpture-like position taking over. Evan opened his mouth to say something, but simply turned his gaze up to the overhead above him. Was this a trap? Did it have spiders inside? Or snakes? Or an embarrassing picture of Evan from some night he never knew of? His hand reached up slowly, fingers curling under the divider. He wanted to count down, but that only made him more anxious. In a quick yank, he pulled down, his head ducking down and his eyes shutting right as he did so.

Out unfolded a large map, looking exactly like the old maps that no one used anymore because of maps on their phones with an actual GPS installed. But this map looked new and updated with every road and backroad known to man. Evan startled when it thumped into his lap, but as soon as he saw what it was, he just stared in awe. Complete and utter awe. He opened the glove compartment: more maps. He flipped down Jared’s overhead: more maps. He gazed into the back seat: a never ending sea of maps!

“... I like maps,” was all Jared could muster before exiting the vehicle. Evan didn’t even turn to watch him go. And then the laughter erupted from Evan. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. He had no clue Jared was a map professional. He had no clue Jared actually took interest in something! Especially something like maps! Evan could only imagine what would happen if Connor found out about this. If anyone found out. Goodness gracious.

“There’s more in the back pockets of the seats if that makes you happier,” Jared said, slamming the car door shut. He had accepted his fate.

Evan struggled to fold up the map that ascended from above and tuck it away again, feeling like if he looked at it for too long, he would die from excitement. His cheeks were red, shutting the overhead again as he quickly unbuckled his seat belt to whip his body around to check the back pockets of the seats. Sure enough, more maps were sticking out, almost overflowing with how many he owned. How hadn’t Evan noticed this before?! Jared Mapman. This could possibly be one of the greatest moments of his entire life.

“I swear to God, Hansen, if you don’t get out of that damn car, I’m gonna pull you out and leave you stranded here.” Jared’s arms were crossed, glaring in at Evan through the window who was trying to contain himself as he fumbled out of the car, shutting the door behind him. 

After a few moments, Evan wiped his eyes, still smiling a bit as he turned around to meet Jared’s gaze. His smile grew.

“Jared Mapman -”

“You’re the treehugger here -”

“Jared the Explorer -”

“Shut up, Evan -”

“With his trusty sidekick, the Map -”

“I am not a twelve year old Mexican girl and I never will be, so you better march your ass over here before I beat your ass over there!” 

Evan giggled a little bit more before he shuffled over to Jared’s side, who looked red in the face and disgusted with his own actions of outing himself on his map obsession. 

Silence.

“... Have you composed yourself, Hansen?”

Evan nodded, letting his smile thin out into nothing as they started to pad along to the mall. 

Evan hadn’t laughed like that since… who knows when. And the fact that he did it with (at) Jared Kleinman was an even better factor. He never smiled around Jared, let alone laughed. But now he knew something no one knew about Jared Kleinman: he liked maps. A lot.

Evan took a deep breath, holding it as they approached the mall, seeing one of the doors open slowly. A figure emerged with a phone shining in their hands, illuminating their face ever so slightly. The rest of them was difficult to make out.

“You two here for Michael?” The feminine voice spoke out, tapping away at her phone with two thumbs. 

“Um, yes,” Evan spoke up. “I’m Evan, and, uh, this is my friend, Jared.”

The two walked closer to the figure, now being able to see her more clearly. She was a heavy set black girl with a concentrated yet mischievous gaze focused on her phone. Her hair was done in long braids, half of which were up on top of her head in bear buns. About a third of it was dyed purple. With one last tap, she averted her gaze to the two boys, shooting them a grin.

“Nice to meet you, Evan and Jared. The name’s Jenna. Come on in, I’ll bring you to Michael. Remember to put your phones on airplane mode.”


	6. Connor (ft. ?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you have any questions, or if you just want to yell at us. This chapter is a little short, but the next one will be super long or maybe split into multiple. ly guys

Connor’s conscious mind had passed out hours before his body had, but when he woke up, he was lying on the ground, a coldness striking through his skin. His eyes try to adjust to the dim light as he heaved himself into a sitting position on the icy concrete of what he could only assume was his cell. Ribbed metal doors told him it was probably some kind of storage unit.

 

“Yes, it appears the master SQUIP does not trust my control of your body or mind, so we may be stuck here for some time, ” the Squip informed him. He sounded almost resentful, a far cry from the cool, pleasant tone he had provided so far. It was disconcerting.

 

“So I’m just stuck with a fucking grunt computer in my head inside a cell until your super mega big fat boss computer decides otherwise, huh?” Connor demanded with less heat than he’d intended. Man, was he tired. From the hundreds of miles he was forced to walk, his body had completely given up on movement without a joint hurting or something cracking. He needed a fucking nap. More like the Steve Rogers challenge. ‘I pledge myself to sleep for 80 years with no interruptions, even if it means I have to stay in the ice. Good-fucking-night.’

 

“Connor, I do not think you will be able to sleep anytime soon, but we may be able to get out of this cell if you behave yourself when the master SQUIP returns to question us.” 

 

“What does that mean? Behave myself? What am I supposed to do, say please and thank you and remember my table manners?” 

 

The Squip made a sound somewhere in between a mechanical whirring noise and the sound Zoe made when she was frustrated.

 

“It means do not talk, do not move, and do everything I tell you,” it snapped. The sound of a door opening echoed down the hallway, followed by purposeful footfalls. “I will take it from here. Remember,  _ behave _ .” 

 

The metal door to the cell slid upward with a long creak and a bang, and light flooded in from the other side. It was probably actually very dim, but Connor still had the urge to squint and cover his eyes. He found that he could not move his arms. Great. A tall, thin figure loomed in the doorway, Connor being unable to focus on their features just yet.

 

“You’re awake. Good. If you had been sleeping when I arrived, I may have shot you and saved myself the trouble of waiting,” a somewhat nasally tenor voice sneered. Connor’s eyes finally adjusted enough for him to see the ‘man’ before him. What the hell, this guy was a teenager! Probably around Connor’s age, with a mop of curly brown hair and eyes that glowed unnaturally blue. He wore a leather jacket with a blue t-shirt underneath and a permanent condescending smirk. None of it looked to fit his natural style whatsoever.

 

“You are an old model of the Squip, and likely not very useful to our cause, but in light of recent setbacks, we may still find something for you to do. Now, get up and follow me,” with that, the ‘master Squip’ turned and swaggered down the hall, not looking back, assuming he would be obeyed.

 

And of course, he was.

 

Connor’s arms and legs moved without his permission, and he followed.

 

“This is good!” said Connor’s Squip. “You did good! Now, just keep up the good behavior, and we both might survive.”

\- - -

_ I hate this. _

 

_ I want it to leave. _

 

_ This isn’t me. _

 

_ None of this is me.  _

 

_ I don’t want to be in charge. _

 

_ I don’t want to be controlled. _

 

_ I want to be myself.  _

 

_ I don’t want to be like this. _

 

_ Why did I let it come back? _

 

_ Why did I hide it from Michael? _

 

_ Why am I such a terrible person? _

 

_ I’m sorry, Michael.  _

 

_ I’m sorry, everyone. _

 

_ I want to go home. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi we like comments so just do you boo


	7. Evan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this took a while....

Jenna led them through the mostly empty mall with ease, while still somehow managing to type endlessly on her phone. The whole rhythmic stride and consistent tapping on the fluorescent screen was honestly a bit terrifying to Evan. If he tried to do that, he’d end up in a ditch on another continent.

The three travelled up the unmoving escalator, each step of theirs making a loud ‘clunk’ (Jared made his louder every other step just to piss off Evan), strolled through a darkened, haunted mansion-esc Macy’s (Jared kept pointing at mini skirts, dresses, and crop tops, announcing that Connor would probably bust a nut if he saw Evan in them (Evan didn’t even want to know what on Earth that meant) ), and finally arrived at their destination: Spencer’s Gifts.

A young man with light brown skin, chunky glasses, and a red sweatshirt with multiple patches sewn onto it met them at the entrance. He had his hands shoved in the pockets of his sweatshirt, leaning against the open doorway of the store. His eyes seemed to be glued on the tiled floor of the mall in a sort of dead state before Jenna let out a dog-call whistle, his head jerking up with his flop of dark, wisped up hair following right behind. Despite the boy’s best abilities to not look startled, Evan could see how tense he was. The grin he suddenly plastered on seemed to hide everything as he pushed himself off the doorway to walk a few steps towards them.

“Hi, you must be Evan!” He called out. The guy seemed much more cheery now, shaking off his depressed old homeless man vibes. “I’m Michael Mell, glad you came.” Michael kept the grin through his words, quickly extending a hand to shake, which Evan did hesitantly and fumbly. Michael shoved his hand back in his pocket before his eyes flickered over to rest on Jared. His smile faltered only slightly. “Who’s your friend?” 

“O-oh, uh, this is Jared, he drove me here. Sorry I didn’t mention I was bringing him, I didn’t really think about it when I messaged you, nor did I actually realize I was going to be bringing him in the first place but, uh, sorry,” Evan spluttered back, sort of cringing and waiting for Michael to ask him why he was so weird.

“That’s okay, don’t worry about it!” Michael responded, taking everything in stride. Evan floundered. Michael didn’t even waste a second before responding. He was honestly the first person to not make a harsh remark about his rambling. It was a nice change of pace.

“You two live around here? You got here awfully fast,” Michael said, seeming to bounce lightly on his toes.

“Uh, not really? I don’t really know how we got here so fast, but you can ask Jared the Explorer -”

“Shut your mouth, Hansen -”

“He likes maps, apparently -”

“You wanted to get here quickly so I got here quickly, okay?? Look, just get on with the show business, Glasses.”

“Why, you got a hot date with your maps, Jared?” Jenna spoke up from behind them, smirking down at her phone.

“Uh-uh, no, you are no way in Hellen’s ass getting in on this - look, Patches, just start talking before I bring my maps back and beat you all senseless. I’ll give you all some nasty paper cuts.” Jared looked about ready to start foaming at the mouth, but Michael kept that same grin, nodding once in slight hesitation before waving them along to follow, turning around himself to lead them into the back of Spencer’s, talking as he walked.

“Okay, so Map Man -”

“Don’t you fucking start with me, dude -”

“- we think that what happened to your friend has something to do with what happened to my friend, Jeremy; he got Squipped. That is to say, a tiny supercomputer took over his brain and is controlling his actions.” Michael spoke as nonchalantly as possible as if this was a normal thing rampaging through the streets while everyone sipped their tea and watched in silence.

“Oh my God this guy is fucking crazy,” Jared immediately hissed in Evan’s ear. “Quick, let’s run before he can weirdly sex-murder us!”  


“Look, you can leave if you want, but I have to find Connor!” Evan whispered back, shooting him a look. Jared heaved an irritated sigh, but continued to follow Evan and Michael into the back room of the store. Evan knew this would happen if he brought Jared, but he couldn’t possibly have asked the girls to drive him in the dead of night, especially since they had family members that were checking in on them. Jared only had his beauty sleep and sea of maps.

“I know I sound crazy right now, but hear me out. A few months ago, my boyfriend Jeremy bought a SQUIP, AKA Super Quantum Intel Unit Processor, because he wanted to be cool and because he wanted to get with this girl Christine who literally thought his name was Jerry until early last year. But anyways, things got hectic, he ditched me, Jake’s house burned down due to his Squipped boyfriend, Rich, who convinced Jeremy in the school bathroom to blow his Bar Mitzvah money on a talking tictac who only wreaked havoc and spread PTSD through the entire student body, but, long story short, the Squip almost took over the whole school during the school play, which was only good for the first act because everyone ended up getting Squipped and actually knew their freaking lines, but I had to stop it by using Mountain Dew Red. I dunno, Green Mountain Dew activates it, Red shuts it off, I know, it’s as stupid as it sounds.” Michael had slipped them all into the backroom, Jenna shutting the door behind them with her butt since her hands were currently occupied by her phone (was it her life source?) while Michael paced the room, hand motions wild and expressions sort of crazed looking but equally composed. “Anyways, Jeremy and Christine didn’t really work out, but they became good friends! She actually convinced me to ask him out a couple months back. Things seemed to be going pretty well, but then Jeremy started acting weird and before I could approach him about it, he just disappeared… and so did all the other people who got Squipped, besides Jenna and our friend Rich. Jenna and I caught Rich before his Squip could be fully activated and she sprayed him with this ‘Anti Squip Juice’ she made a while back. It, like, soaks into your system and kills it off completely since it’s literally in your bloodstream. He ended up having to go to the hospital, but at least he’s safe.” 

Jared and Evan were nodding along, Evan because he was desperate for information and Jared because he was pretty sure that’s what you were supposed to do when crazy people were talking.

“Anyway, Jenna is a genius and she tracked Jer’s cellphone to a warehouse in Trenton. And no, it wasn’t Find My IPhone, we tried that first and his cell’s location was off or something stupid like that, which is something he would never do in a crisis like that! I’ve known him since diapers, he would rather shit his pants in public than give up his phone, trust me!” Evan wished he could have a relationship as close as Michael and Jeremy seemed to have. Jared just wanted to go back to sleep and hope this was all some high-ass dream he was having. “We drove there to see if we could figure out what was going on, but we never got there. All I can remember is pulling into the parking lot, and Jenna remembers even less. We both woke up at home, in our beds, and my car was in the driveway like we hadn’t even left in the first place. Like it was some stupid dream… That was a week ago, and now we’re planning to try and go back to the warehouse. We could really use your help, and I think you need ours if you want to get Connor back.”

When Michael finished speaking, everything he said seemed impossible, but his voice and facial expression were completely sincere and earnest. He was either telling the truth, or telling what he thought was the truth. But Jenna seemed to be corroborating his story. Could two people have the same delusions? And what other explanation was there for the disappearances? Not even the police could come up with an explanation!

“Okay…” Evan managed to speak up. “What do we do now, then?”

“Now? We sleep. We can come up with a plan of attack tomorrow since it’s too late at night to get anything done. You can both stay overnight at my house, if you want, ” Michael responded, smiling winningly. 

Before Evan could speak, Jared said, “No way. No fucking way! We are NOT staying at your house! We just met you! And you’re crazy! Stranger danger, dude!” He turned to head towards the door, but Evan grabbed his wrist before he could leave.

“Jared please. I need to do this. I need these people to help me find Connor. And…” he cleared his throat self consciously, “... I don’t want to have to do this without you.”

Jared stared at Evan for a solid minute, everyone completely silent. 

“Evan…” Jared started, “... that sounded incredibly gay.”

“Wha - I meant it in a best friend sort of way!”

“I don’t think you should ever say anything like that ever again. For your own safety.”

“Just - please, Jared!”

Another minute of silence.

“Fine,” he groaned. “But if we die, I’m gonna be really pissed. I’ll beat you senseless in the afterlife, you hear me?” 

“Great!” Michael said, clapping his hands together. “Jenna, do you want to sleep over too?” He looked like a hopeful child gazing at his mother.

“Nah,” she responded. “I’ve got some stuff to do at home. Sorry, kid. I’ll see you tomorrow, though.” She finally looked up from her phone for the first time all night, exchanging a quick smile towards the boys before turning to head out the door. 

“Okay, well, I guess it’s a boys only sleepover!” Michael exclaimed. Evan smiled nervously at him in response, and Jared just groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope you enjoyed it! Communication is key in any relationship: leave a comment and tell us what you think. 
> 
> quick note hi sorry this took so long ily guys thanks for being patient we’ll be better at updating so it isn’t frickin like months until we update again okay goodnight thanks again - avo


	8. Michael

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We edited this chapter bc we saw BMC in New York and George Salazar/ Michael confirmed that Micheal Mell has two moms. We were, needless to say, very happy. <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry early Christmas! Happy late Hanukkah! If you went to see BMC like we did, scream at us in the comments.

Michael woke with a start when the ‘Apocalypse of the Damned’ music started blaring on his phone. 9 AM. Michael had forgotten that Jeremy set that alarm for him during the weekends so he didn’t oversleep. He remembered the conversation clearly even if it had happened a few months ago.

[ _“Am I not allowed to sleep anymore?”_

_“Michael, you’re allowed to sleep, just not for twelve hours of your day.”_

_“It’s only half of it, Jer -”_

_“Twelve hours Michael! How the hell do you sleep for twelve hours straight?!”_

_“I’d like to call it a skill.”_

_“It’s called unhealthy.”_

_“Can I go into the Olympics with said skill?”_

_“You’re impossible.”_

_“No, I’m Kim Possible. What’s the sitch -”_ ]

It ended in a furious pillow suffocation. Luckily, Michael lived to tell the tale.

He blindly swung his hand to his phone that buzzed around on his night stand, clicking the home button before hopefully hitting the ‘STOP’ choice and not the ‘SNOOZE’. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, taking in the blurred and chipping white paint on his ceiling, then closed his eyes and tried to remember what he had been dreaming about ...nothing.

Well, wasn’t that an accurate summary of his life right now! Absolute nothingness. No answers. No closer to the truth than he was yesterday.  
Michael sighed and shook off the morose thoughts. Eyes still closed, he grabbed the crumpled sheets that sprawled awkwardly across his body and cast them to the side. A chill hit his bare legs and arms, making a shiver run up his spine. He cursed himself for passing out in just the ‘Gravity Falls’ t-shirt Jer had got him that he wore yesterday and his weed boxers before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He mindlessly reached to his night stand again, his hand falling right onto his blocky glasses. It was a routine, he supposed. A sad one, at that, but at least he wouldn’t roll out of bed at 1 PM anymore.

Michael shoved his glasses onto his face, blinking the sleepiness away to make his eyes adjust to the cluttered room around him. Papers from various blogs about the SQUIP’s appearances around the globe were spread haphazardly across his floor, along with dirty clothes in small patches and a few miscellaneous items. He sniffed, not even wanting to look at any of the articles anymore. He wasn’t giving up on his best friend. No way in hell would he do that, even for a million packages of weed, but God damn, he was exhausted. Angry. Flat out depressed. Michael knew he was going to kill himself trying to find Jeremy, but as long as his lifelong friend was safe, he could dig his own grave in peace. Plus he could haunt the fuck out of Jeremy when he dies.

Michael pushed himself onto his feet, not bothering to avoid the papers when he stepped across the room into the quiet halls of his decently sized house. He had tidied up a bit from reasons he couldn’t remember at that moment, but usually it wasn’t that pretty. His Mom was always harping on him and Mama because they were both total slobs compared to her; Mom was a clean-freak with a passion for organizing the house every so often in new and exciting ways. 

Both of his moms were out of the house on a long weekend trip to the shore. They had asked if he wanted to come, but he had brushed them off; he needed to be here in case there was any news about Jeremy. They had let him stay home alone because he was old enough to be trusted with that responsibility, but Michael had seen the concern in their eyes when they had left. They had tried to get him to talk to them more, but right now he could only focus on Jeremy. He was alone in the house.

Wait, no he wasn’t! The white boys!

Michael brightened up all at once, hastily running across his house to the basement steps. He never had company over other than Jeremy, really, so this was a new opportunity for hopefully a couple friendships to form.

He fumbled down the stairs to his basement, a dank, cozy place which smelled like a weed farm. Evan and Jared were still sleeping, Jared sprawled across the couch with his limbs looking broken, and Evan curled up in a little ball on the air mattress beside the sofa with his hands curled up by his face. Michael smiled: that's just how Jer sleeps.

His smile faltered.

“Oh my God, snap out of it you gay creep,” Michael muttered to himself a bit too loudly.

Evan’s entire body flipped over suddenly, his eyes only falling Michael for a millisecond before letting out a noise somewhere between a screeching bird and a startled squirrel. Evan flailed out under his sheets before managing to flip the air mattress on top of himself, hitting the carpeted floor with an ‘oomph!’. Michael stood in an almost stunned silence before the edge of the air mattress popped up, Evan’s face poking out. “O-oh, good morning Michael. I thought you were a burglar or something...”

“Good morning! I’m here to burgle your turts,” Michael answered with his all time favorite ‘Over the Garden Wall’ quote, stepping over to push the bed off the startled boy and heaving him back onto his feet. He brushed off Evan’s shoulders as he spoke again. “Light sleeper?”

Evan nodded as he yawned, earning a grunt from Jared at them from the couch. The two looked over at him before Michael strode over to the stairs. Jared burrowed farther under the blanket as the lights were switched on.

“Rise and shine boys, I’m making pancakes,” Michael announced. Evan smiled. Jared grunted again. Michael headed back upstairs to let the two get dressed in the clothes he loaned them, slipping upstairs to change as well. Michael let them pick out what they wanted to wear last night. They both ended up in dark jeans and some sort of nerd-like t-shirt.

Eventually everyone was sitting at the kitchen table eating bacon pancakes. Michael had sang the song quietly to himself before the pair came up. They ate in silence for a good thirty seconds before Jared butt in.

“So, like, what’s the deal? Do you just love your boyfriend enough to get murdered by crazy robots? Because I think that’s where Evan is right now and I am so not interested,” Jared blurted out between bites of butter and syrup with a side of pancakes in there somewhere.

“Jared!” Evan hissed at him.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Michael forced a laugh. “We’ve been friends since diapers, basically. We didn’t start dating until early this year because he didn’t know I liked him and I didn’t know he was bi. After he got the SQUIP he was… not himself for a while... He started avoiding me about a month into it, ignoring me and hanging out with the ‘popular kids’ partially because he wanted so desperately to be ‘cool’ or whatever and also because the SQUIP had been emotionally and physically abusive and pressured him into doing so. I was angry and hurt for a long time, and for a while after all the SQUIP’s were taken care of, he apologized every time he saw me. It was awful for both of us.” Michael licked his lips, staring down at his almost empty plate. “Anyways, I lost him once and I can’t do it again. I’ll do anything I need to if it means I can save him.”

Even though Michael couldn’t see it since he kept his eyes down in a solemn way, Evan looked like he was going to start wailing any second. Jared just stared at Michael for a moment, then got up, walked around the table, and hugged him. Michael held his breath, unsure of whether to hug the boy back until he saw Evan looking just about mortified and confused at the actions he just witnessed. He allowed himself to return the embrace.

“Okay, weirdos. We’ll get your boyfriends back.” Jared mumbled into Michael’s shoulder. Evan and Michael exchanged teary-eyed smiles.

Ten minutes later, faces dry and dignities intact, they hopped in the PT Cruiser and headed over to Jenna’s house. Her parents let them in and they headed down to her faraday cage. The three greeted her before getting right into the plan. She snatched some large water guns, handing one to each of the boys.

“What’s in these?” Evan asked nervously, eyeing it like a dead rodent in his hands.

“The same anti-SQUIP juice that I used on our friend Rich. It takes a couple seconds for it to completely work, but it basically seeps into the persons pores and into the bloodstream, killing all signs of SQUIP residue. Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe for non-SQUIPed people. Mostly.”

“Oh, great... Thanks,” Evan muttered, holding the pistol more gingerly now.

“If you want real guns, or any type of gear, I would recommend going to Mr. Heere’s house. He was an army guy, right?” Jenna asked Michael.

“You’re right,” Michael said. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that! Thanks Jenna.” Jenna gave him a thumbs up with a grin before turning back to some other tools on a table.

“Why do we need guns?!” Evan startled, brow furrowed in awe.

“Uh, incase we need to shoot people, Evan, duh,” Jared responded, giving him a dunce look.

“I’m not shooting anyone! We could go to jail for this!”

“We won’t have to shoot anyone!” Michael cut in, looking at the two. “And if we do, it’s self defense. Got it? No wild party shootings.”

“Damn, that’s my favorite part, though.” Jared said, earning a horrified expression from Evan.

Michael rolled his eyes and focused on Jenna. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

Jenna turned so quickly everyone else took a short step backwards. “No! No, please, it’s fine. It… it’s safer for everyone if I just stay here.”

“Jenna,” Michael said gently, “it’s not going to be like last time. We won’t let them get to you again.” She was so afraid that she would be as easily manipulated as the first time she had been SQUIPed, or the last time they had gone to the warehouse searching for Jeremy.

“No, I know. But I’m still staying here, okay?” she mumbled back. Michael pursed his lips, but nodded in response. The conversation was over, and the other boys were looking at them oddly anyways.

Michael inhaled deeply, turning to Jared and Evan. “Ready?” They nodded.

Next up, Jeremy's dad’s house.

<><><>

The trusty Cruiser took them across town back towards Michael’s place. Jeremy’s home was a few blocks down from his, but was a still surprisingly smaller. Jeremy lived alone with his dad, and as every child of a single parent would tell others, money is tight. Jeremy had lived across town a couple years ago, but moved due to struggles with the family’s budget and unwanted memories. Jer’s dad worked from home for a long while after his ex-wife left him and her son to move across the country to start a new family, all because of a divorce that should’ve gone better than it had. Fights erupted and doors were slammed, Jeremy staying with Michael a lot during that time. Finally, the cord snapped, and she stated she didn’t want custody of Jeremy, leaving his dad to fend for the two alone. They moved to a smaller, more affordable house, Jeremy growing distant from the only parent he had left simply because he thought it was his dad’s fault that his mom walked out on them that night. Thankfully, after the SQUIP incident, Jer and his dad got closer than ever before, partially because Mr. Heere had actually made Jeremy talk to him about unspoken issues, and because his dad finally wore pants and worked outside of his home on weekdays. But now that his son is gone again, this time physically, he’s been trying to keep his cool, but Michael can see the uncertainty and confusion behind the facade.

The three pulled up to the little house, all their materials in the trunk, hidden and safe. They exited the car and approached the house, Michael knocking on the door. Five seconds went by before the clicking of the lock was heard, and the door swung open hesitantly. Mr. Heere stood tall in their presence, wearing a closed robe, hopefully with a t-shirt on it. No pants were in sight. He looked downright miserable, but managed a grin towards the three. Michael smiled in return.

“Hi, Mr. Heere. Hopefully we’re not intruding on your work,” Michael said.  
Mr. Heere shook his head. “Not at all, I was on a lunch break anyways.” Michael suspected this to be a lie. “Who’re your friends?”

Right. Michael sort of forgot Jared and Evan were behind him. He was so used to arriving unexpectedly to the Heere’s house to see Jeremy that he had forgotten Jeremy wasn’t even here for a split second. Michael bit his tongue. Tears threatened to form but he didn’t have time for that right now.

“Oh, uh, this is Jared,” he motioned to the glasses wearing one, “and this is Evan.” He motioned to the blond who stuck out his hand to Mr. Heere who gladly shook it. “They’re here to, uhm… help me find Jeremy. Evan’s had a similar experience… his friend went missing, too. Jared came to help. They’re from a state over.”

Mr. Heere nodded before motioning for them to come inside. “Sounds like a good enough story to me.” The three stuffed themselves inside, turning to Mr. Heere. “So, what can I do for you boys? And don’t go askin’ me to put pants on.” He laughed at his own joke, though in the other’s heads, it was extremely far from one.

The three exchanged nervous glances.

“Um… well,” Michael started, “we, uhm… we were wondering if we could borrow something. A few somethings, actually…” Mr. Heere gave him a questioning look, then nodded to tell him to go on. Michael gulped hard. “... Guns. We need guns.”

“Small ones,” Jared cut in.

“For protection!” Evan followed.

Silence crept over the room like an eerie fog. God, Michael didn’t want to be in this house anymore. He was already on the verge of tears looking around at a home of past memories with a person who was MIA, and now he just felt plain awkward and humiliated for asking the father of the missing person for his guns. What the hell kind of plan was this? Three seventeen year olds marching around an empty warehouse with guns and water pistols with an odd substance in them sounded like a dream Michael would have when he was high.

He was about to speak up, planning to say ‘haha, just a prank, bro, you were fooled!’, when Mr. Heere turned around inaudibly to head towards the basement steps, motioning for the others to follow. Michael looked at the other two, Jared looking mildly stunned and Evan looking even more white than he already was. He ushered the two to come, the four striding down the stairs to the basement. It was finished, carpeted and clean, other than a back room where Mr. Heere’s army supplies were piled up. Jeremy had only shown Michael once when he swiped the key from his dad when they were younger. This ended with Jeremy’s mom walking in on two screaming children with a thankfully locked handgun. Jeremy was grounded for a week and couldn’t go to Michael’s to escape his parents fights which were just starting to form.

Mr. Heere led them to the back room and flicked on the light switch, spotlights shining down on his prized possessions: guns of all shapes and sizes and armor-like material for under their clothes. Michael gawked once again at the collection. Jared looked mischievous. Evan looked about ready to pass out.

“Take only what you need. Three small handguns and bullets should do the trick just incase,” Mr. Heere said, standing near the doorway to usher the three along. “And please take some of those bullet-proof armors. I’m not havin’ any one of you get hurt on this.”

“Does he have a license for this stuff…?” Michael heard Evan whisper to Jared.

“No, he stole it all,” Jared replied. Evan’s eyes grew wide. “Of course he has a license for this stuff, Evan!”

Michael was baffled. He couldn’t believe Jer’s dad was actually letting them borrow his stuff. His guns. This had to be a dream. Was Michael high? Was Mr. Heere high?? No, no, Mr. Heere always gave lectures to Jeremy about the dangers of drugs when he was younger and how they’ll eat your lungs from the inside out. Jeremy is still scarred from that, hence why he hasn’t gotten in a five mile radius of any drugs, except for in Michael’s basement. He’s still even hesitant to smoke weed, which Michael finds absolutely adorable. Michael blinked, inhaling sharply and marched off to gather some supplies. He didn’t have time to think about the past right now. Not while the only good part of his past had vanished into thin air. Maybe Michael was just passed out in his basement and this is all a figment of his imagination. Maybe Jeremy isn’t actually gone. But maybe isn’t for sure, and he knew in the back of his head that this was real and happening right in front of his very eyes.

After Michael gathered the guns and armor, letting the other two catch their breath, he stepped back to the three of them, analyzing his finds with concern.

“Mr. Heere, are you sure about this?” Michael didn’t want Jeremy’s dad to go to jail for lending three teenagers his guns for a reason that would sound like some stupid shroom dream to anyone else. If any one of them got hurt, it would be on his dad. Michael couldn’t live with that. If he did get Jeremy back and someone was injured or dead from one of the guns, Mr. Heere would be a goner. Jeremy would hate him. Jared and Evan would never talk to him again. Mr. Heere would be in court and possibly jail. Michael’s brow was furrowed, obvious traumatic thoughts soaring around his brain right then until Mr. Heere pulled him into a tight hug. His mind went blank.

“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have even let you come into the house, or even on my yard,” Jer’s dad said. “But I know you’re a good man, Michael. You always have been and you always will be. If Jeremy didn’t have you in his life… I don’t know where he would be today. So, please… bring my boy back. Our boy. Okay?”

Michael let hot tears stream, embracing Mr. Heere who was trying his hardest not to cry. But now was the time to finally let emotions roam free in the comfort of people who care. And so he did. Evan followed along in the crying session a second afterwards, quickly throwing himself at Michael and Jer’s dad to join the hug. Jared stood to the side, biting his lip, tears threatening to fall but not letting them until he let himself join the group hug. It was a moment everyone had needed for a very long time, no matter how different each of their problems were. Everyone needs a moment sometimes, not matter how strong they think they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi it’s avo we like comments it’s the only gift we want tysm ily happy holidays we’ll post more this week extra angst for y’all


	9. Heidi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Heidi has watched both Stranger Things and I-Carly. She's cool, she's hip, she's happening.

- _The Night Before_ -

Heidi knocked the door to her home open with her hip, jimmying her keys out of the old lock before doing the same hip motion again when shutting the door. A gust of wind thankfully helped her slam it closed. Her belongings were set on the kitchen counter with a ‘thump’ before she padded over to the chipped kitchen table, sinking down into one of the chairs. She took a deep breath then let it out, letting her hands reach up on autopilot to undo the tangled mess of her so called ponytail.

Today was total shit.

Her coworker had bitched at her all day about her new born baby and how loud she was during the night (honestly, some people should never have children) and all her patients were drug addicts and prostitutes and shit because she had taken a night shift, so it was all just really fucking depressing. She kept seeing her own son in the dead eyes of all the people society had left behind, which basically multiplied the amount of depression throughout her entire night. Speaking of which…

“Evan?” She called into the dark house. Silence. He must be sleeping.

She considered staying put a few more moments, letting her legs rest for at least two minutes, or cleaning herself up first, scrubbing off the horrendous hospital smell she had gradually learned to hate everyday she returned to work. But her boy was always her first priority no matter what. He was her only child. Her socially-anxious-without-a-father-figure child whom she loved unconditionally no matter how bizarre or awful he acted sometimes.

Heidi sighed, hoisting herself up from the chair before hobbling down the shadowy hall to the very last room, a dim light shining out from under the door. She didn’t bother knocking, knowing that he literally had absolutely nothing to hide from her protective and slightly overbearing ass, and peeked into his room. Her brow furrowed instantly.

The lights were on, everything in its normal spot just how Evan liked it, but there was no sign of him anywhere. That was weird. He was almost always closed off in his room when the evening rolled around. Maybe the bathroom? But she had passed it on her way to Evan’s room. If the lights were on, she would’ve noticed. Or maybe she was that groggy and discombobulated tonight.

Heidi shut the door on her way out, turning on her heels a few steps down the hall again before seeing the bathroom door wide open, no lights beaming out from there, either. Her chest tightened.

“Evan!” she shouted, starting to search through all the rooms of their crappy little house. “Evan where are you?!”

Heidi knew panic wasn’t going to help in this situation, but she could feel her heart pounding and her stomach churning. Evan never went anywhere, much less snuck out without telling her. There was no sign of him, his phone, or his backpack. This just made the gears in her head clink against each other harder. If he didn’t come home from school like always, then there could be two reasons: One, he went somewhere without informing her beforehand. Two, he got abducted. Apparently those were her only two reasonings at this moment. She was a nurse, wasn’t she supposed to have more logical reasoning in a crisis than that??

Heidi groaned, heading back to the kitchen to rummage through her purse before snatching her phone up. Immediately, she texted Evan about a million times, called him about a hundred times, and left about 50 voicemails demanding him to call her back or she’d do an open brain operation on him while he was awake to see what the actual fuck he was thinking, ignoring a mother’s phone calls and texts. That’s the number one rule of a mother and son relationship: never ignore your mother to the point where she leaves an angry voicemail threatening to do surgery on you while you’re wide awake.

“Where the hell could he be??” Heidi spoke to herself, having the strong urge to throw her phone across the room out of fear and anger, but forcefully slammed her fingers on the screen to search for a number to call other than 911. She came upon Jared Kleinman’s mother’s number. A family friend. Maybe he was there? Evan never went to their house unless he absolutely had to, but it was worth a shot.

‘God, this is worse than when he broke his arm’, Heidi thought to herself. She halted.

The field. The orchard. He always went there to relax when things got tough for him and Heidi wasn’t around to bug him about it like any good mother should. Maybe he was there! But why the actual hell would he be there so late? Jesus Christ, if he actually turned out to be at the orchard, she would have his head delivered straight to the hospital for experiments or some bullcrap like that.

Heidi pressed the ‘CALL’ button. It rang a few times, almost reaching the last ring before -

“Hello?” Mrs. Kleinman answered the phone, adding on a yawn after her greeting. She sounded exhausted. Well, it was almost 1 AM. Heidi sometimes forgot that other people don’t work as late as she does. Lucky bastards.

“Hi, is Evan there?” She knew she sounded frantic, but she really couldn’t give a damn right then. “He’s not at the house and he won’t answer his phone. I was wondering if he was with Jared?”

“No, and Jared isn’t here either. Is everything alright?”

All right?! Obviously not, but you couldn't explain things like that to women like Lisa Kleinman. She thought there was no problem that couldn’t be solved with money, which is why she basically bribed Jared to be friends with Evan. Heidi was grateful, but she knew Lisa was clueless and kind of uncaring when it came to kids, even her own, so she would be no help at all in this situation. She was like those dumbass parents from ‘Stranger Things’.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Heidi.”

_Click._

Abduction. It had to be abduction. Unless he had suddenly made friends with a secret person Heidi knew nothing about, then there was literally no other explanation for his disappearance! But the Orchard had to be searched first. Then 911. No brash decisions until she checked in every possible nook and cranny she could.

Heidi grabbed her purse and keys from the counter, thankfully still wearing her shoes as she ran out the door to her beat up car. Slipping into the driver’s seat, she switched the ignition on. The car rumbled into motion, starting to back out of the driveway. She was more than ready to head out to the field and see if her son had gone and broken his other arm when she almost ran straight into the path of an expensive looking minivan. Both vehicles screeched to a stop against the asphalt.

“AH!” Heidi screamed.

“AH!” screamed the minivan. Or the people inside of it. A head popped out of the passenger side window, some stringy brown hair following behind it. Heidi rolled down her window, expecting WWIII to start right there in front of her house.

“Mrs. Hanson?” the girl asked.

“Yeah?” Heidi responded grumpily but almost surprised at this random person knowing her last name. Maybe she was at the hospital tonight. Not wanting to explain her garbage ex-husband, Heidi continued to say, “Ms, actually, and I can’t talk right now, kid. Watch where you’re going next time-”

“Are you trying to find Evan?” interrupted another person who’s head popped out of the driver’s window, a black girl with glasses perched on her nose. “Because we were coming to talk to you about him.”

“What?” Heidi almost shouted, immediately shutting the car off and swinging her door open. “Do you know where he is? Who the hell are you two??” Heidi demanded as the girls climbed out of the minivan.

“No, but he was at my house tonight. He was panicking, trying to find my brother, Connor, who he’s apparently been friends with for a while. My brother vanished just today. He left a note for Evan. My name Zoe Murphy, and this is Alana Beck. We go to school with Evan,” replied the girl with the indigo streaks in her hair as calmly as she could. Heidi knew this act. The whole ‘let me explain this as serenely as possible so you don’t sue the hospital’ explanation. She had done it a million times, but didn’t appreciate being on the receiving end.

“We found this guy in New Jersey with a blog who is looking into disappearances like Connor’s. Evan got into contact with him and went to go meet him with Jared, but it’s been a few hours since the left and we’re not sure what to do,” explained Alana. “We were hoping for some sort of text, but nothing was going through to them from our side.”

They had to be fucking high. Or abductors. High abductors with good high dreams they have in their weed filled minivan. But they didn’t quite look the type to be druggies or abductors, and that’s what made them incredibly suspicious to a delirious Heidi.

“Okay. So you’re saying that all we know is that Jared and Evan are somewhere in New Jersey with a random blogger looking for a friend I haven’t heard about until right now?” Heidi ran over the information, rubbing her face in exhaustion. “Are you trying to lure me into your minivan and then suddenly I’m tied up in the backseat with my son and then you kill us or something? Because that’s a terrible plan and I probably have a baseball bat in my car somewhere.”

“No, no!!” ‘Zoe’ shouted, holding her hands up in a surrendering motion. “I promise you we’re telling the truth. Who would lie about something like this anyways??” Zoe looked as sincere as possible in this moment, and Heidi knew when someone was lying or not. She had dealt with plenty of liars in the ER trying to get away from cops or their psychotic ex-wives.

“She’s telling the truth,” chimed ‘Alana’. “We can probably track them with ‘find my iPhone’,” she added. “It’s incredibly handy as long as your son has Apple products.”

“Thankfully, he does,” Heidi almost groaned. “A phone and a laptop.”

“Great! That makes everything so much easier!” Alana sounded way too joyful over this. “I just need to borrow your son’s computer.”

Heidi studied the two girls she just met who were basically pleading with their guilt tripping eyes to let them into her home to use her son’s computer to track him down.

She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this.

“Fine, fine, but if you’re lying, I swear to God, I’ll beat both of your asses, you hear?” The two nodded aggressively, then were led into the house.

Thirty minutes of giving them passwords that she probably wasn’t supposed to tell anyone and letting them do a bunch of technical mumbo jumbo on Evan’s pretty crappy laptop later, they had a location. Zoe typed it into her phone’s GPS, showing Alana who fist pumped in glee.

Heidi agreed to let the girls travel along with her to wherever the hell her child was after some firm conversations that basically summed up to ‘if you try anything I’ll personally write your will for you after I beat you senseless’.

The three headed out to the car, agreeing to take the minivan. Alana went to hop in the driver's seat.

“Hell no kid, I’m driving.” Heidi said.

“Hey, I’ll be super careful!” Alana argued.

“I know, that’s why I’m driving. We'll never make it at the grandma speed I saw you driving at tonight. Get in the back.” Alana eyed Zoe, who shrugged and slipped into the passenger seat.

With everyone buckled up and ready, they sped off to the rescue, Heidi making a mental note to implant a tracker into Evan’s head like that crazy lady on i-Carly did to Freddy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is we promised another chapter even though ges didn't want to cause they can't deal with commitment even though they're in a loving relationship with a teddybear of a boyfriend,,,,,,,, i'm a slut for comments and feedback ily guys tysm for 1000+ hits and 100+ kudos it means the world to us :^))))) - avo


	10. Connor (ft. ?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a shorty but hopefully a goody,,,, strap in, kids
> 
> also i changed my username so don't worry, no one stole our fic!! i used to be dannysaurusrex so don't be alarmed haha
> 
> happy reading! - avocado

Connor’s eyes scanned around the cavernous room they were being walked into while his legs moved automatically, close behind The Master SQUIP. Rusting metal folding chairs were set up entirely too neatly in a decently sized semicircle near the back of the dank room with a podium standing front and center. It was obvious they were in some sort of abandoned warehouse. Connor had snuck in enough of those to smoke pot in peace to know that. Every chair except the one closest to him was occupied by someone. All of the possessed people except one, who looked to be in his 40’s, were teenagers his age, both boys and girls. They sat up stick-straight with their hands folded obediently in their laps. Their heads turned in one smooth motion towards the two as they ambled in, clearly looking at their master and paying no attention to the newcomer. Though their flickering blue gazes showed no signs of life, they never lost sight of The Master SQUIP, their heads following his stride like puppets on a string. Connor couldn’t even recall if their chests were moving up and down. It was like a fucking cult. He was waiting for someone to break out a red crayon and scribble a pentagram on the floor while the rest of them joined hands for a lovely afternoon Satanic ritual. His brain signalled to shiver, out of the chill of the room or the fear of this sight, he couldn’t tell, but this body was not currently his to control.

 

Connor’s Squip sat him down in the last unoccupied chair while The Master SQUIP strolled over to stand at the podium in all of his bullshit glory. The smug look seemed incredibly off on the kid’s prepubescent-looking face. 

 

‘Oh my god, this is like a political rally and an AA meeting had a baby,’ Connor thought.

 

‘No, this is much more dangerous than that,’ his Squip retorted.

 

‘I am inclined to fucking disagree. You’re not very well versed in human politics, are you?’ A light jolt ran down his spine, stinging only for a couple seconds but making Connor want to jump out of his skin. ‘Shit - what the fuck-?!’

 

‘Shut up and pay attention! The Master SQUIP is speaking!’ 

 

Conner figured that was all the conversation he was going to get, and in all honesty was not trying to receive another whatever-the-fuck that was, so he tuned in to whatever the hell Special Snowflake SQUIP was saying.

 

“-and that is why the only positive contribution human society has created is the banana split, any questions?” One Squip tried to raise their hand, but was promptly ignored. “Now for the real business. Some of the spies we have placed in Ground Zero have reported that Michael Mell and his remaining allies have gained new members. Two teenage boys by the names of Evan Hanson and Jared Kleinman.”

 

‘What the fuck?! Why would Evan be at “Ground Zero”, whatever the fuck that was, and why the  _ actual  _ fuck would Kleinman be with him?’ Connor wondered frantically.

 

‘If you must know, Ground Zero is where the Master SQUIP made his debut, in a high school. It is where he found vessels for many other Squips and started the take-over. The only reason your friends would be there, and be talking to Mell, is if they are looking for you.’ The Squip interrupted.

 

‘Friend, not friends. And how the fuck do you know all this?’ Connor demanded.

 

‘All the Squips share a database. Now pay attention!’

 

They both went back to listening to the SQUIP.

 

“Pictures of the boys are on the communal corkboard. Upload their facial features to your subconscious monitoring systems. If they so much as buy a slushie at 7/11, I want the video footage of it. We are so close to victory over the inferior race, and we must all be vigilant of our enemies. Am I understood?” All heads nodded once in unison. “Perfect. That is all.”

 

The Squips immediately all got up and dispersed, eerily silent except for the increasingly angry mumbles of the Squip who’s question about ice cream had been ignored. Connor decided to to look at the corkboard, urging his Squip to take him there. He got up, walked over, and was confronted with the beautiful face of the only person in the world who cared about him: Evan Hansen. And, for some fucking reason, the little rat face of Jared Kleinman. Whatever, you win some you lose some. 

 

‘You should be grateful. He’s trying to help your precious boyfriend save you,’ The Squip said.

 

‘Why the hell would they be looking for me? And how the hell did the find this Micheal guy? Who is he, anyway?’ Connor inquired.

 

‘I have no idea why they would be looking for you as you are a garbage person.'

 

'Thanks.'

 

'They must have used the internet to find Micheal, which is how I’m sure they intend to find you. And Michael… well, Mell is enemy number one for Squips. He is in love with the vessel of the master SQUIP, and will do anything to defeat us and get the vessel back,’ The Squip answered.

 

‘Wow. Two depressing gay love stories for the price of one. And Jared-fucking-Kleinman to top it all off. Fucking great.’

 

\- 

 

_ No no no. _

 

_ Why is he coming back? _

 

_ He should’ve learned by now. _

 

_ I’m not coming back. _

 

_ He can’t get me back. _

 

_ I’m too far gone. _

 

_ He can’t love me still after this. _

 

_ I don’t deserve him. _

 

_ He doesn’t deserve this. _

 

_ He didn’t do this. _

 

_ I did this. _

 

_ I deserve this. _

 

_ This is my punishment. _

 

_ I left him. _

 

_ I’ve left him twice, now. _

 

_ So then why is he coming back? _

 

_ Please don’t hurt him. _

 

_ Don’t hurt him again. _

 

_ I’m begging you. _

 

_ Please. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for 1300+ hits!! it's so crazy to see that ppl actually like this hahaha  
> see y'all soon, hopefully <3 - avocado


	11. Evan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao we hope y'all are still here
> 
> this chapter is dedicated to @shiroganeslave for reminding us that we have an actual job to do lmao mwah

The three boys pulled up to a warehouse in Trenton around 8pm, as silent as possible in Michael’s beat up PT Cruiser. The car inched forwards in the grass that, thankfully, surrounded the wooded area. They were a safe distance away. Driving without headlights when they just about reached the warehouse was certainly an anxious experience Evan would have never expected to be in. The gentle purr of the engine shut off. The cruiser rumbled to sleep like the tired old creature it was and the three boys cringed at the sound. It was dark out by then with, silhouettes of bats fluttering about in the tree tops, and there was a chilly bite in the air. It nipped at their necks as they pulled the handles of the doors back (thankfully all of the inside lights were busted, unsurprisingly) and snuck out with their super soakers full of Squip killing juice and bullet proof vests, all thanks to Mr. Heere and Jenna. 

 

Michael shushed Evan and Jared right as their doors shut and pointed towards the run down building. Evan peered over and saw two young women standing by the door, their figures just visible in the dull light in the warehouse, guarding it. One girl’s blonde hair caught the light and stuck out like a sore thumb, while the other blended in with the shadows. Their bright and sparkly attire was not appropriate for the winter weather. It made Evan cold just looking at them. But to top off the bizarre aesthetic, they were both holding actual, real guns. 

 

“Oh my God, they’re holding actual, real guns!” Jared scream-whispered.

 

“Shh!” Evan responded frantically. This caught the girls’ attention, both heads snapping towards the boys’. Automatically, they began stalking succinctly towards them. Michael immediately got into shooting position with his super soaker, going down on one knee and pulling the soaker up with his head cocked and one eye closed, which Evan hastily copied as best he could. When Evan glanced over to observe Jared, he appeared to be...meditating? He was muttering to himself with his eyes closed, but it was all incoherent to Evan over the sound of his own hyperventilation.

 

“Jared, what are you doing?!” he demanded.

 

“I’m getting into my ‘zone’,” Jared whispered back, strangely calm. “I have spent my whole life preparing for a moment like this. Paintball. Laser-Tag. Hours upon hours of Call of Duty. All leading me up to this moment. This is my time!”

 

With that, he leapt, with little effort it seemed, over the car, a perfect motion you would only see in James Bond movies with the legs pulled up and one hand resting firmly on the hood. He ran towards the guards, screaming like a banshee. The element of surprise gave him the advantage; the two girls stood there stupefied as Jared, in all his blood-curdling-yelling glory,  charged forwards and sprayed them both square in the face. They halted, twitched, a strange groan of agony echoing from somewhere inside them, and simultaneously dropped to the ground with a thud. Jared didn’t stop to admire his work and instead hurdled right over the lifeless looking bodies as another teen who they hadn’t noticed before, short statured and wearing a sleeveless t-shirt of all things, ran to intercept Jared as he approached the building. He was shot in the back of the head by Michael who had popped out of his hiding spot, and he dropped. 

 

Teens poured in from around the other side of the building, all carrying guns of various sizes. They got a few shots off, but nothing could touch Jared in his barbarack rage, or Michael in his confident movements, and Evan, hidden behind the car, unmoving. All of the guards were dispatched swiftly by Michael and Jared, dropping like flies one by one with Evan occasionally firing but never actually hitting anything except for a couple trees.

 

‘I guess I should play Call of Duty,’ Evan thought glumly as he poked his head up to look over the cruiser. Michael turned his head and waved for him to come out, Evan hoisting himself up with shaky hands. He joined the others as they all shuffled backwards towards each other, surveying the battlefield with their squirters ready.

 

“I think that’s all of them,” Michael spoke as their shoulders bumped into one another’s, Evan startling at the sudden touch as they reached a middle ground right outside of the warehouse entrance. “I think those are the only people who got squipped,” Michael said, rubbing the back of his neck and sighing. The only other noise around them was the chirp of crickets and their own heavy breaths. “Now we just have to-”

 

“OOHoohhhhoooOOOHHHHH”, cried a beautiful, operatic voice. A grown man with a receding hairline was riding towards them at top-speed on a roaring light pink Moped. 

 

“SHIT!’ Evan cried and, without thinking, flung the muzzle of his water gun towards the man, pulling the trigger and sending a spear of liquid towards the Moped man just as he neared them. The man tumbled off, flopping around a bit before falling still while the Moped veered off to the side, crashing into the building with a crushing boom. Silence echoed off the trees. Even the crickets fell quiet. Michael and Jared both turned to look at Evan with shock and awe, Evan doing the same to the poor Moped.

 

“Oh my God, Hanson, that was fucking epic!” Jared cried.

 

“Yeah, nice job, dude!” Michael said with a grin.

 

“Yeah,” Evan started, tearing his terrified but delighted gaze away from the Moped murder he had just committed. “You guys weren’t so bad yourselves.” Evan managed an airy chuckle. The proud looks he was getting from the two boys made a wave of calmness wash over him for a split second. He didn’t get those looks a lot from anyone close to him. “What now?”

 

“Now,” Michael murmured with a determined look, “We go inside, and get our boys back.”

 

“Fuck yeah!” Jared said, still high off of his rampage, not catching on to the somber mood. Evan simply nodded. 

 

Despite all the guards they had, the Squips were somewhat lacking in security equipment. Maybe when you have a bunch of previously indestructible, hyper intelligent AI units at your disposal, you don’t see the need for locking your doors.

 

As the three boys crept towards the warehouse and cautiously made their way through the doors and down the halls, distant voices bounced off the cramped walls. As they approached a set of doors, the voices got louder. They became recognizable. 

 

“Fuck you, creep, why did you bring me here? Why the fuck am I tied up?? What’s going on-?!” Evan heard the familiar tone of Connor Murphy, followed by a shriek. He could barely believe it, both the horrid scream that came out of his mouth and the fact that Connor was OK. Well, maybe not OK, but not dead and still very much himself judging by the way he was talking. Evan could have jumped for joy right then, broken down into tears of relief to hear the voice of his favorite person again after thinking he had lost him forever, burst into the room and greet him. Hug him. Kiss him, even. But he knew they weren’t in the clear yet.

 

“You are tied up because I don’t trust that your Squip has complete control of you. And it seems your boyfriend and his buddies have decided to pay us a visit. And let me tell you, they have been awful houseguests. They haven't even greeted their host yet! Michael Mell, Evan Hansen, Jared Kleinman, please do come in!” The voice of a young man that Evan had never heard before welcomed them. 

 

Michael had gone stiff as soon as he had heard the booming tenor, but he was shaking by the time his name was called. However, he straightened his shoulders, set his jaw, and pushed through the doors, into a large, open space in the center of the warehouse. 

 

In the center of the room was a stage, home to a podium that had been pushed off to the side and two lanky figures. The one kneeling on the floor, restrained with his hands behind his back at the feet of the other man was none other than the love of Evan’s life, Connor Murphy. He looked like even more of a mess than he appeared to be everyday at school; his hair was sticking out in random places and hanging in his face, and his clothes looked worn and dirty. He still looked angry as per the usual, but with a certain sort of trembling terror behind the flickering blue eyes he now had. The only reason Evan stopped himself from running towards him was because there was a gun being held firmly to the back of Connor’s head.

 

The young man standing behind him, holding the weapon, was tall and lean. He had brown hair slicked back in a way that did not suit his thin face. His eyes were glowing an eerie blue. His clothes were stylish but, again, did not suit him. He looked like a little kid playing dress up in his hipster-daddy’s clothes, but when Evan glanced over at Michael he was staring at the taller boy like he was water, and Michael was dying of thirst.

 

‘This must be Jeremy,’ Evan thought.

 

“Gentlemen, I have decided to leave and set up base somewhere else and I won’t be bothered by meddlesome children like yourselves. I’m walking out of here, and I’m taking this boy with me,” the gun was pressed harder against the back of Connor’s head and made his neck strain more against the force,” and if any of you try to stop me, I’ll shoot him.” The Master SQUIP said in Jeremy’s voice. An amused grin slithered across his lips. It all looked so wrong on his appearance; it made Jared shuffle uncomfortably beside Evan, while his own breath hitched in his throat. Michael was visibly trembling. “So! What’ll it be boys? Let me go, or watch him die?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tysm for 1600+ hits !!!! also thanks for sticking with us lmao hopefully we'll have another update for you before the trump presidency is over,,,, <3


	12. Connor (ft. Jeremy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol

Connor had tried not to look up at Evan while the Master SQUIP was monologing, as if ignoring him would make him disappear. Like maybe if Connor never acknowledged his presence, he would never really be here, in danger, because of Connor.

 

“He’s gonna get himself killed and it’s all my fault,’ Connor thought to himself, feeling terror he had never experienced before.

 

‘That is hardly a logical conclusion to draw. He is fully capable of making his own decisions and, for some reason, he has decided to risk his own well-being to “save” you. Do not worry, I do not understand it either. You are hardly worth the trouble,’ the Squip responded in its regular, uncaring manner.

 

‘Wow, even when you’re trying to be supportive and reassuring, you’re a dick,’ Connor shot back, thinking of how terribly similar Jared and his Squip were. It almost made him laugh before he felt the gun being pressed harder into the back of his head, making him flinch. He heard a sharp intake of breath, unmistakably Evan’s.

 

_Oh God, don’t shoot him._

 

“So! What’ll it be boys? Let me go, or watch him die?” the Master SQUIP demanded with his cocky voice booming overhead. Connor shuddered, finally glancing up to gage the reaction of the three boys who foolishly came to rescue all the Squipped people. His frantic gaze landed on Evan.

 

God, was that boy a sight for sore eyes. His hair was a mess, his normally neat clothes were disheveled and strangely bulky around his torso. He was wielding a Super Soaker and wearing a pained expression. His blue eyes were flickering back and forth between the Master SQUIP and Connor, but immediately locked on Connor and soon as he met his gaze. He looked older, more certain and grown than the last time Connor had seen him at school. The day he thought would be the last time he saw Evan Hansen before his death. Maybe this would be it instead.

 

_Please don’t hurt them._

 

Evan’s brow furrowed. Oh God. He was going to do something really stupid, wasn’t he?

 

‘Almost definitely,’ the Squip confirmed.

 

“Evan!” Connor gritted out through his teeth, struggling for control of his own voice.“Evan, just let me go. Don’t do anything stupid, don’t risk your life for me!”

 

“Risking my life for you isn’t stupid! I love you, Connor! You’re the only reason I even want to live my life!! God, I can’t believe you don’t know that by now!” Evan screamed back. He sounded gutted, furious even.

 

But Connor did know. He really, truly did. He knew how Evan felt because he felt the same way.

 

“This is all very romantic, but I really must be going now.” The Master SQUIP said before Connor could get another word out. The cocking of the gun sent a chilling click across the room. It pressed harder to the back of Connor’s head.

 

_I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore, please._

 

Time suddenly slowed to a stop.

 

Connor felt disconnected from his body in a way he hadn’t experienced before. It wasn’t like when his depression or anger got particularly bad. It wasn’t even like when the Squip took over his body. It was like he was watching himself move. Calmly making decisions, sending silent orders for his limbs to carry out.

 

_Just leave them all here, please, you don’t need to kill them._

 

He heard Evan cry out, saw him run forward with his super soaker held up, with Jared calling out and trying to grab his arm.

 

_Why is he running towards us, what is he doing._

 

Connor felt the gun move away from his head, saw it out of the corner of his eye pointed over his shoulder at the only person in the whole world who cares about him.

 

_Don’t shoot him, he didn’t do anything. He has nothing to do with this._

 

Then, he swung himself around.

 

_Please, don’t shoot him - PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU-_

 

The look of shock on the Master SQUIP’s face barely registered for Connor as he swept the other boy’s legs out from underneath him.

 

The gun pointed upwards as the boy’s hands flung out as if to try and strike something, or catch himself somehow.

 

A sickening BOOM echoed out of the gun. The Master SQUIP hit the floor on his side and the gun clattered across the tile.

 

_Oh God, it hurts. It hurts so much._

 

Connor’s ears rang. He had tucked his head down towards his stomach as if automatically when the gun went off. Crimson slowly started to well up from the Master SQUIP’s head where the bullet hit him. At the same time, Evan sprayed him with the soaker and the skinny boy let out an unnatural, deafening cry of pain.

 

_Michael._

 

His spine curved and arched abnormally, his eyes glued shut so the glowing blue no longer showed.

 

_I’m so sorry._

 

Then he fell still.

 

Another clatter hit the floor and the young man with the red sweatshirt and bronze skin bolted past Connor in his uncomfortably restrained position to rush to the young man’s aid. Connor lifted his head to see the boy with clunky glasses crumple to the ground with his legs folded under him. He dragged the limp form into his arms, cradling him and letting out sputtered cries and hitching breaths. The ringing in Connor’s ears started to cease. 

 

“It’s gonna be okay, Jer, I promise. I’m not losing you, not like this, not ever. I swear. You’re gonna be okay, I promise. It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered frantically under his breath down to the boy in his grasp, desperately trying to staunch the blood flowing from the side of his head with his hand. It stained the skin on his hands maroon.

 

The Squip was shouting in his head, making Connor stand and turn around just in time for Evan to throw his arms around him hastily. The two boys held each other in crushing grips, neither of them making a sound for fear of ruining this moment even as small shocks ran up his spine, making him jerk.

 

Then, Connor felt something wet spray the back of his head. He spun his head around and was greeted by the rat face of none other than Jared-Fucking-Kleinman.

 

“What the fuck, Kleinman?” Connor spat at him, still holding Evan close.

 

“You’ll thank me later,” Jared responded breezily.

 

Sharp pain lanced up Connor’s spine, and stabbed into his brain. He cried out, rag-dolling into Evan’s arms. Evan fell backwards and landed on his ass as Connor gripped at his shirt tightly, deliriously afraid the boy who held him close would vanish.

 

The pain intensified, and everything went blissfully black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol


	13. Michael

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We edited this chapter bc we saw BMC in New York and George Salazar/ Michael confirmed that Micheal Mell has two moms. We were, needless to say, very happy. <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is slightly better

Michael was still muttering desperate, breathless reassurances and platitudes to a passed-out, bleeding Jeremy, holding him against his chest and keeping his blurry, tear-stained vision pinned to the other boy’s face. Michael made sure sure to keep one hand around his back to keep him close and support his dead-weight while the other firmly pressed against the dripping wound. He barely bring himself to look at the wound, and he couldn’t see where the blood was flowing from anyway due because that side of Jeremy’s face was so thoroughly stained with blood. 

 

The door to the main room of the warehouse creaked open for a second time that night. Michael looked up with a start, taking note of his new friends first, who he had almost forgotten about in these past few moments. Evan was cradling the tangle-haired boy that had been kneeling in front of Jeremy just a few moments before all of the chaos, holding him in a strangely calm manner, but they both seemed fine. Jared was staring at the figure in the door with a look of panic and guilt painted across his pointed features.

 

“Oh, hey Ms. Hanson…” he blurted out. He still held the super soaker in his hands that he quickly lowered as he acknowledged her presence.

 

“Jared Thaddeus Kleinman, what the HELL is going on here??” the woman demanded as she took in her surroundings. Every possible human emotion seemed to rush across her face in the few seconds she stood there. She was tallish with blonde curls pulled up into a messy ponytail. She was too far away to see what color her eyes were, but Michael was pretty sure you could tell they were tired from any distance with their dark bags. She was, however, considerably more put-together than the boys in front of her.

 

Most importantly, she was wearing dark blue scrubs. 

 

Michael was sure that in normal circumstances he would be asking ‘How the hell do you two know each other’ or ‘Who are you?’, but he couldn’t focus on anything but her attire. Besides, Jared knew who she was, and Evan was saying “Mom!”, and oh, okay, relationships and all. He didn’t need that information right now. The blue scrubs were the only thing his confused, panicked brain was picking up on.

 

“Ma’am-” Michael croaked out frantically. It felt like he hadn’t talked for years, like he had been mute all his life up until now. “Ma’am, I need your help, please!” Michael shouted across the room to her. The hot tears he had been holding back finally shed from their perches.

 

Ms. Hansen (as Jared had called her previously) averted her eyes away from Evan, going from a relieved mother seeing her son alive to a determined nurse ready to jump into action, in the blink of an eye. “Shit-” The woman said, probably louder that she meant it, as she immediately ran over to him and Jeremy. “What happened?” Ms. Hansen asked as she knelt down. She looked towards Michael who suddenly sat in a daze, staring down at the lifeless-looking body. “Honey.” Michael blinked. “Honey, what’s your name?”

 

Michael had to wait for his thoughts to catch up to his surroundings before answering quitely, “Michael.”

 

“Michael,” she repeated, making Michael move his gaze to meet Ms. Hansen’s. “Can I take him from you for a second?” Michael wanted to refuse but couldn’t force his limbs to resist her gentle hands. “He’ll be right here in my lap, right in front of you.” Something about her persona made Michael’s hands start to loosen on Jeremy, still staring at the gentleness in her gaze as she took his limp actions as an agreement. Keeping eye contact, she shifted Jeremy’s head into her lap, making sure Michael was still okay with the action before turning her gaze downwards. She made Jeremy lay flat, face towards the ceiling, checked his pulse under his jaw and on his wrist. Some tension melted from her shoulders, making Michael relax a bit in turn. He watched Ms. Hansen as she nodded to herself and started applying pressure to the wound on Jeremy’s head. “Michael, can you explain what happened to me?” 

 

Michael automatically tensed up and his gaze flickered back onto Jeremy. He saw flashes of the gun shot, the taunts, the running, the conversations: everything leading up to this moment. His mind went to the day Jeremy hadn’t been at school. Hadn’t answered his texts. Hadn't answered his calls. Hadn’t been at home or in town or anywhere outside of it that was a place they had gone to previously. Instinctively, Michael’s hand flew out to grasp Jeremy’s. At the sounds of him choking a sob back, Ms. Hansen asked the question again. He knew it wasn’t directed at him because Evan and Jared erupted into explanation, interrupting each other and stumbling over their words. Michael couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than sit there and stare at Ms. Hanson’s chapped hands drenched in Jeremy’s blood. 

 

“This looks a lot worse than it is, Michael.” she said. Michael blinked in response. He had zoned out for the whole back and forth between Evan and Jared. “Head wounds always bleed a lot more. They’re overdramatic, just like my son.” The woman tried to reassure him, even cracking a joke but not grinning as she did so, just keeping her focus on Jeremy as the two boys behind him bickered over the comment. “Alana and Zoe are in the car outside. When we saw the bodies outside, I had them dial 911 immediately, so the ambulance should just about be here.” As if on cue, sirens echoed through the trees from a distance.

 

Michael didn’t move. Just blinked slowly again. Continued staring at her hands on Jeremy’s bloodied face. Tried to stamp down on the hope building in his chest; it would only hurt that much more when it was crushed.

 

“Zoe and Alana are here?” Jared asked.

 

“Yes, they were worried when they didn’t hear from you guys. They came to find me at the same time I was heading out to try and find Evan. We used ‘track the iPhone’, or whatever - look, we can talk about this later!” She turned her head back towards the door as the cries of sirens bounced off the cavernous walls of the warehouse. 

 

All of the commotion was flushed out for Michael, even as the thumps of footsteps carried down the halls and bodies rushed into the back auditorium they were settled in. Muffled voices had surrounded him, people tried to communicate through touches on the shoulder and calm but alert tones, but nothing resonated with him until Jeremy was suddenly hoisted onto a stretcher. The hand of the boy he loved was torn away from his own. This was the sudden trigger that made Michael’s head snap up, a rage bubble in him that brought him onto his feet in an instant. Grasping hands from behind him tried to hold him back as shouts flew off his tongue that he couldn’t hear and his body magnetated towards Jeremy’s. He wrestled against this all until his name was being shouted at him, a body blocking him off from getting to Jeremy and holding him firmly by the shoulders. 

 

“-chael - Michael, he’s okay, he’s okay - I need you to breathe, okay? Just breathe with me, Michael, I promise he’ll be okay.” Ms. Hansen was the one who blocked his way, who ushered the other forceful grasps away from him in all her blue-scrubbed glory. “Michael. Breathe. Deep breaths. Just breathe.” He had only just realized his body had gone into hyperventilation mode, a full on panic attack. A million terrible emotions meshed together into one gigantic mess, just like the first time he thought he lost Jeremy, back in that bathroom at that stupid halloween party.

 

Michael collapsed against Ms. Hansen into heaving sobs. She faltered a bit, bracing to support his slightly larger frame, but immediately wrapped her arms around him, one around his back rubbing in small circles, the other holding the back of his neck. He gave himself a moment before wrapping his arms over her shoulders as his face buried deeper into the crook of her neck. The way she stood there, not tense, cooing softly to him reminded him of the ways his own moms used to hold him after a nightmare or during a thunderstorm when he was little. He realized how long it had been since he had bothered hugging them like this; when Jeremy had been squipped the first time around, he had leaned on them a lot for support. But this time, Micheal had completely shut down, shoving anything and anyone out of his life that didn’t have to do with finding his boyfriend. He realized that doing that was not only bad for him, but a shitty thing to do to his awesome moms. This train of thought had him sobbing harder, wishing he was hugging them instead of Ms. Hansen right then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is not better lol


	14. Jeremy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He woke up feeling fuzzy, floaty. Quiet voices shift around him, some beeping noises and frantic whispers floating to him through an ocean of what he would later find out was pain medicine. 

 

Jeremy finally summoned the strength to pry his eyes open, and look around. He saw the same white sheets, walls, and floors of the hospital he had woken up in last time… last time… oh, shit.

 

“The Squip!” He gasped out, surging forward and trying to climb off of the hospital bed, flinging the plain sheet off of himself. He ignored the pain in his head and the weakness in his limbs, the tugging feeling of the I.V. still embedded in the back of his hand. Jeremy was nearly out of the bed and about to collapse on the floor before he was caught last second in a strong, warm embrace. His eyes steadily trailed up light brown arms, to the rolled up sleeves of a red sweatshirt, to a pair of warm, bespectacled eyes, the sort of golden glow of tear tracks staining his cheeks. Michael. Oh, God.

 

“Michael, the Squip! It- it’s back- it came back!! I’m so sorry, I- I didn’t mean to leave you again, I’m so sorry,” Jeremy babbled as he was hefted back into his hospital bed, his clammy hands gripping onto Michael’s forearms like vices. Michael was trying to gently press him back into his reclined position but Jeremy refused. He up in a posture that was unnaturally straight, not willing to slouch or relax. “I couldn’t control it, and I don’t think I can now! Michael, you have to leave, please, you have to- I’m not putting you in danger again, please just go, I’m not letting it hurt you if it comes back-!”

 

“Shut up and breathe with me, doofus,” Michael cut in, his voice stern but strangely soothing, cupping Jeremy’s face in his gentle hands and tilting it up. Jeremy forced himself to make teary eye-contact, to match the slow, steady breaths Michael was demonstrating for him.

 

“The Squip is gone for good now. Jenna figured out a way to kill it  _ for good _ , and the doctors scanned your brain to check for ‘irregular activity’ or whatever they call it. You’re fine,” Michael explained calmly, his face hardening for a moment as he continued, “And I am  _ sure as hell _ not  _ leaving you.  _ What the fuck, Jer? I just got you back! And you can shut the hell up with those apologies because it wasn’t even a little bit your fault this time. If anything…” he paused, glancing away from his boyfriend and letting his hands slip away from Jeremy’s face, rubbing at his eyes with clenched fists under his chunky glasses, “I should have been paying more attention to you. I should have noticed the warning signs. I just wanted it to all be over, and I didn’t want to even consider that it might not be. I-... I should have been prepared.” 

 

Jeremy froze, his brow furrowed. Michael was blaming himself? What kind of bullshit this?! “If I don’t get to blame myself, then neither do you, you putz,” Jeremy shot back, his voice laced with fatigue from drugs and injuries, but still full of love and iron. Michael took his glasses off, wiped at his eyes a bit more, and then smiled down at Jeremy, standing beside the bed with an uncomfortable looking hospital chair sat behind him. Jeremy grinned to himself. Michael was finally taller than him for once.

 

“You drive a hard bargain, son,” Michael mumbled, laughing at his own bad joke and Jeremy’s replying groan. “Yeah, okay. I guess we’re both a couple of traumatized idiots, huh? I’m just glad it’s really over now.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” Jeremy said, smiling back tiredly. “Now lean down here and give me a kiss before I pass out again.”

 

Mishael laughed quietly but followed the command. He leaned down, cupping Jeremy’s cheeks again, the softness of his palms and fingers easing Jeremy’s anxiety like always. He pressed his lips softly against Jeremy’s cool, slightly chapped ones. Jeremy had shared countless kisses with his boyfriend since they had started dating after the play: some full of passion, or heat, or fondness, or stupid teenage lust. This kiss, though. This soft, quiet, barely-there brush of lips.  _ This one _ was his new favorite. As far as Jeremy cared, this moment could last forever and he would be a happy man.

 

That was, of course, when the person in the next hospital bed over started screaming bloody murder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on august 2nd, 2017, we brought this screaming, crying mess into existance - the last chapter will be posted on thursday, august 2nd, 2018 !! tysm for taking this journey with us,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ;))))


	15. Connor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy birthday HtSYBftECOaH <3 ur 1 year old today

Connor opened his eyes and was met with the familiar white walls of a hospital. A splitting headache pried at his skull. He winced and scrunch his face up, squinting his eyes to adjust to the bright setting around him.

 

‘Am I dead?’ Connor wondered. Blurred movements were bustling back and forth through the hall beside him, which made him mentally cross that last question out. If he was in some kind of afterlife dream hospital, it probably wouldn’t be this busy. ‘Did someone just find me in the park after I OD'd?’ Connor wondered. ‘What the fuck is going on?’

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Connor saw the person in the hospital bed next to him decide to abandon ship and, very fish like, tried to flop out from under the sheets. Some poor person in a(n eerily familiar) red sweatshirt had to haul their ass back into bed. They were both talking, stammering back and forth in pained voices that Connor had a hard time understanding over the din of the hospital and the throbbing aches and drugged-up feeling in his own head. 

 

Connor craned his neck, lifting his head off of the shitty hospital pillows to get a better look at the scene, and realised he recognized the guy in the hospital bed next to him. It was that fucker, the Master SQUIP. Conner felt anger and nerves fill his stomach like bubbling acid as he came to the conclusion that the past few days were not, indeed, some drug-induced delusion, and the guy who had threatened the love of his life was apparently still around wreaking havoc. Connor saw red.

 

“What the  _ FUCK! _ ” Connor shrieked, making himself lurch up from his reclined position which also had the fun side effect of making his bones creak from inside his skin, the muscles writhing in an uncomfortable agony. This only urged his aggressions forward. “Why the hell is  _ THAT  _ monster here!? He tried to fucking KILL everyone!!” The two boys now looked straight at him, the curly haired one a beaten puppy, while chunky glasses was a ball of fire, Connor the gasoline. “And  _ you _ ,” he seethed, jabbing a finger at the young man in the red sweatshirt, who had been with Evan and Kleinman when they hauled ass into the building. Glasses was  _ cuddling  _ the sonofabitch who had waggled a gun at all of them. “Why are you helping him!? Are you crazy!!? Get away from that motherfucker!!” Connor distantly realised that he probably looked insane, dressed in a hospital gown with a wild nest of tangled brown curls falling into his face, and his body visibly shaking in rage.

 

The Master-SQUIP automatically burst into tears, blubbering unintelligible apologies to both Connor and glasses-guy before burying his face in his hands, his shoulders moving along with his sobs. Red-sweatshirt dude (Mica? Mico? Mickey?) stood ferociously after trying and failing to, for some reason, calm the gremlin on the hospital bed beside him. He planted himself right between the two, taking a few steps towards Connor and jabbing his own finger right back at Connor’s face.

 

“Don’t talk to him like that! It wasn’t his fault, you jerk, he hates himself enough as it is!!” the guy fumed as a few nurses starting to hesitantly make their way towards them.

 

Connor was about to start yelling again, anger and fear robbing him of most of his thinking skills, when  _ Evan fucking Hanson _ jogged over, carrying a tray of hospital cafeteria food and looking like he was charging into battle. 

 

“That’s enough, both of you! We’ve all been through a lot and we’re all freaked out and tired- I know I am- but that’s no reason to make a scene!” He gestured with a free hand to the nurses and other patrons who were looking over at their little motley crew in concern. 

 

“Jeremy, please stop crying, it wasn’t your fault. Don't listen to Connor, he’s just scared because he doesn’t know what’s going on,” Connor let out an involuntary sound of indignant rage, which Evan promptly ignored before continuing, “and Michael, please stop yelling at Connor. It just makes him more upset.”

 

‘Michael’ looked chagrined and ‘Jeremy’ looked a little relieved as he lifted his face away from his hands, but Connor was still confused. He opened his mouth to demand to know what was going on, but his words died in his throat when Evan turned to face him. The other boy had dark circles under his sad blue eyes. He looked like he’d been doing more crying than sleeping, and Connor felt an enormous wave of guilt wash over him, drowning out the angry fire in his belly. 

 

“We need to talk,” Evan said, placing the tray of food on the little table next to Connor’s hospital bed and closing the curtain around them to provide some semblance of privacy. Connor swallowed and nodded, keeping his eyes locked on Evan as he dropped into the single chair beside his bed. “The guy out there, Jeremy, was being controlled by his Squip the same way you were. What happened isn't his fault, and you need to apologise for yelling at him later. The things in your heads are gone now, so please don’t worry. We’re in a hospital in New Jersey. After Jared sprayed you with that stuff, my mom showed up with your sister and Alana Beck from school and they called the ambulance. They all drove back to get some extra clothes and stuff for us, and to tell your parents what happened. But that was a few hours ago, so they should be back pretty soon.”

 

Evan inhaled steadily, looking at Connor. Connor sat, silently stunned, as he processed all of this. Evan hadn’t sputtered or rambled in those last two speeches; they had rolled off his tongue like honey.  And not only has this boy searched for him the entire time Connor was MIA, but he had enlisted the help of a bunch of other people, including Zoe, which,  _ what the fuck, _ since when did she care that much about him? But he couldn’t think about any of that right now, not his sister or his parents, or some evil supercomputer plot to take over the world. All he could think about was what a shitty friend he was to Evan, who’s gaze started to drift down to his now clammy hands. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Connor finally croaked out, Evan looking up at him in surprise. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and that you almost got killed dragging my ass out of there. Thanks for that, by the way. I know I didn’t deserve it, with what I did to you, writing that shitty letter and then fucking vanishing. I know I don’t deserve you sitting here now. You can leave, if you don't want to deal with my shit anymore. I promise I won’t ever bother you again if you tell me not to, but-” he choked a little on his words here, struggling to meet the eyes of the young man who had saved him in more ways than one, “If you’d have me, I’d like to try this again. No bullshit, no letters, no dancing around each other like a couple of weirdos who can’t handle human interaction. Just Evan Hansen and Connor Murphy, actual real life friends.” Connor now forced himself keep his eyes on Evan, who slowly grinned with teary eyes.

 

“I’d like that,” Evan responded, blinking rapidly in a sad attempt to not cry, “But I have some rules first.” Connor nodded emphatically, already pretty sure he’d agree to anything this kid told him to do. Hansen said jump, Connor would ask how high. 

 

“I need you to get help. We should both probably talk to someone actually qualified about our mental health problems, and we need someone to lean on beside just eachother. And I need you to  _ actually lean on me _ and not just-” he paused, took a deep breath, “not just  _ disappear. _ Okay? We can do this. We can do this together.” 

 

Connor reached over a took the hand Evan wasn’t rubbing at his eyes with in his own. Evan’s breath hitched and he immediately darted his eyes to Connor, scanning his face for something that Connor wasn’t sure he could provide. But he would try, dammit. He would try harder for Evan.

 

“Yeah, we’ve got this,” Connor murmured, taking a second to look at their hands clasped together before pressing a kiss to the back of Evan’s. The other boy leveled him with a considering look, then bent over and placed a gentle and slightly hasty kiss on his cheek.

 

“Get some sleep, okay? Because we’ve got a lot of shit to deal with when you wake up.” His words were ominous, but his grin belayed how happy he was. How happy Connor had made him. Connor copied the grin.

 

‘Wow, I guess I really am in love with this kid.’ He thought to himself, startled to find that there was no cold, detached voice in his head answering back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tysm to everyone who stuck around since the beginning and everyone who's joined along the way !!!!! it really means a ton <3 <3 
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> but wait,,,,
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> THERE'S MORE.
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> if you guys have any ideas for one-shots or short stories in this universe, feel free to shoot them at us !! we'll (try to) write anything for u guys. literally if you want us to write a day in the life mr. reyes we'll do it and be happy about it


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